

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


Chap. Copyright No 

Shell„_... ■ 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
















■l..'S' < 


. i 


: f ^ w 

v> 


r •* 



* ■'f' 
'* * ".r '. J 



• y 


^ o 


•T « . A 


?: ’:r 

• ' ■ ' *' 




.« I 




N-V i’v 



■ ' - 


'> 


» ^ ■ ti 

■vr . 


/ t\ 


• • • 




‘>*V^ - • 

■.<V<' • r * 


ir 


4 - 


> # 


« • 


I ^ 


» ^ 



fc* ? 


z. * f \ i- 




» . : 




t A 


« 




r. 


iT^'v 



r- 


' M 


<TV 


• V 


I V ► • • 


KV- 

jH •■- 




'.rrft 


. Jt 





♦ i ♦ • 

I > 


« Y 



'4^ • 








t j 



. ^ • 




; 


.•A'h'-' 

h_^V •• ' 


1 » 


?v: . ■/ 


• 9 



-Ji ' ' . * • 







• A 


i« 


i-r.'. 





1 4 


V'J 






-w 



^ C-.y^ * '/ ' . 

./•i. 

* 1?A. 


• i/ 

A i ki A . # I # h i 



M . 




A / A 



I 




•94 


i 


s 


# 


4 4 ^ I 




t 


f . 

. ^ ' 



* 


w 


W ' 


k 




I 


• » 

I- 





i.. 


f 




4 


« 




I 



. ^ 

' I 



» 


t 


I 

t 

^ « 






•« 




1^9 




.7 



4 * 


‘ # 




V 


• t 


A 

% 

:• ■^* 

/• ♦ 






I 


j 


• 4 




» 9 


'^1 


A 


•• ^ . I ' V 

'S ^1 




» % 

















^ I 


V 




Vi-*.,' » >* • 


.rr/j ^ 

Lt< •«!<•' 





V ^ 


> ^ 


# • 



Bm-- 

' ;■ ■-■. Iv;:^ 

/>V’- 



r :4 




- 




<r • ^ * 






^ 


V iNrtri^ 





^ 7 ;. « 


vv; vi: ‘ 


» r 


m-Si: 




.♦ 


,^HBSPi*''' ' ^ l£''t^ i ' ''*'^ 


r ^.4 . ■ 

■'? ' »‘\ .' • « 



4 : . .• . ‘ 








-• I 




f ^ 


» \ 





{ *v‘' . 


9 Ti 




' J 



AiV 


• I 




Jf> 


, *ji± ^ 




* B&7 . V. 







, « 


\ • 





•- 




.'■i 


r # 


‘ •. y 




^,' 4 ' 




• ’ I 





- i 


) 4 


I 




’ * ,♦ 





"14 

•J. .■!«?*>', 




^ .vv 


' ' C^* •'?'f 

'■ * '^‘‘J 

■ ‘ L> Aa/< 


§ I 


I 


. A-yjoi 


-? 





n ’V 





1 1 



STANDARD TEACHERS’ LIBRARY 

Published on the First Day of Each Month. Yearly Sub- 
st-ription, §fi.OO; Single Copies 60 cts. 

No. 6. APRIL, 1894 


RODERICK HUME 

- — ^i? V 




SYKACXJSH:, Y. 

C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER 


THE SCHOOL BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS. 


DeGraff’s School-Room Guide. 

For the fifth time an entirely new set of plates has been made for this 

volume. The advantage of such large 
sale as to make this possible is nowhere 
more manifest than in a book of meth- 
ods. Whatever it may have been in the 
past, the teaching of to-day is progres- 
sive, and the methods of 1877 are not 
altogether the methods of 1894. Par- 
ticularly in Drawing and in Penman- 
ship has such advance been made that 
it seemed necessaiy to have those chap- 
ters entirely rewritten. Of the new 
chapters it need only be said that they 
have been prepared respectively by 
Ml'S. Mary Dana Hicks of Boston; and 
by Charles R. Wells, author of the Movement Method of Penmanship. We 
have also substituted for the Geography of North America prepared by Mr. 
DeGratf an entirely new chapter, condensed from the admirable works of 
Prof. Meiklejohn, and in accord with the most approved modern method of 
teaching ; and we have inserted the course of study for district schools 
prepared by a committee of the school commissioners of the State of New 
York and ajiproved by the State Superintendent. Butmainlythebookis as 
the author originally wrote it. What there is in Prof. DeGraflf’s method of 
presentation that so reaches and holds the young teacher, it might be hard 
to say: but he has never had his equal as an institute instructor in the in- 
spiration he gave ; and superintendents everywhere agree that where other 
books are bought and put away, the “ School-Room Guide ” is bought and 
kept on the desk, for daily use. Some books are recommended because it is 
creditable to own them ; this is recommended by those W'ho know it became 
it will helj). Here are some testimonials : 

“ I have known DeGraff’s School-Room Guide for ten years, first as 
School Commissioner, where it was the book I recommended for my teach- 
61 * 8 , and recently as instructor of the Training Class in this city, wdiere it is 
the text-book employed. * # * i have no hesitation in saying that if a 
teacher can have but one book from which to obtain help in school work, 
that book should be DeGraff’s School-Room Guide.”— Principal G. A. Lewis, 
Syracuse, N. Y. 

” If a teacher can have but one book, let this be thi bo6k.'‘'—Ed'l Courant. 

“The almost unparalleled success of this volume, it having reached its 
70th edition, is its all-sufficient I'ecommendation. School-men and teachers 
in every county in the Union know it ‘ like a book \"—N. E. Journal of Ed- 
ucation. 

Cloth, 16mo, pp. 896, $1.,50. Sent postpaid on receipt of price. 

C. W. BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N.Y. 



RODERICK HUME 


The Story of a New York Teacher 

A’ 

C. W. BARDEEN 

Editor of The School Bulletih 



SYRACUSE, N. V. 

C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER 

1894 




Copyright, 1878, 1894, by C. VV. Bardeen 




'- •'V - '■ 



•■ 'A ■? ■■ 

1' --'^‘..V>:.-* 

- V^' . ■ ^ 

‘ W' 




f •• 


1 




> ” 




4 


. ->.;-.5. t 

> ' c • ^ ^ ■’ -* ‘ ' • ' 


4 .% 


^ « 

« X . • 


* ‘*4 - 


. W- 

. . ‘ / • 

V.' 

'4VV' 









» > 

-• t - 




> 

• • 

# 


it • 




«4- i 






V 


j 


-X,; 
.- •«' 


^ • 


w . 

\ 


« • 


U'.- 


. < 


*!/ 




^ 4 






v'*:A 2 » ‘ ■ ; . • • ^ • ' - * . t ' 

--i^ *• ^. * .- * • •.. ^ .!,'■ .••. 






♦. # 


•. .4 • 


I 

0* 




« - 


/*• 

1 . 




\ 






« . 


« • -►> 

' v.v » 


‘j • 


I . 




» 4 
• 

1 

» k 

•A 


- ,. Z * 9 








« ^ 


/• 




. « 


1*^ 


% '., • • ' r .1 • ' 

*■ ■ •>^-- 

.^J.-, . •*• V, --, -.;v 

v/' ^*' "* ’ 


^ w 


• * 


- I 



:s 


^ m 


% 4 

> 


V ■ 

f 4 


>• , 


♦♦ 




'I:. 


'» * 




■: >■ ■*> 


^ X 
»* 1 


• / 






V.^". •'•i'* " :». "*i« 

b< >;*. -^:V ^1 ^ - 

>-l-*^f-..* •» ' V«^.v ' .. 

/ • . / 




,v^V 


4 ^ 


■ “ \ Kil- '•Jv'2JA* •’ 

-. 5: . ^••* ^ ^ t'-'V r 


: 


# 

u 


• *> * # • % 


♦ ' • 

y.- 


V 


»r--.:? 


.1 




•' ^ •■ \kT ‘‘x^' ^ 

. ,>r 


/ V 




♦. \ 


L4w' ■ ' ' •' ' 




/ 

^ « 


« V 


♦ » 


4 .“ 




• l« 


• t • 

•» * % 


Av 


- 4 


: — , -: yri : ' 




•v 

-5'* 


^'•\ ; 

V i *4r 


4 

, > 














* - 'V » ' A-, - 

_• * • * I* * *" * 

# 


^t 




i ' "' * •• ■ * ^ •' 


#V 


- f 

. v\ 

» 

♦ \ 


' .V 


i: 


J 

% • 




• -:;^V 




4 


> 


Ui 



•— » 
« % 
V 


' « 


_. -, J " rV- 

h. • • • . 


A .- 


» • i ^ 


^ • I « • ■' 

^ . 

. 'V •. -:>L' Vr ■ 


>* 



% 

V 


.'i’ 




« %4 • j\*^' 





PREFACE 


o 

*o 

ui 

a 



This story is written to depict certain phases of 
the modern Union School. It is in no sense a satire. 
The author has no hobby to ride, no grievance to 
redress. He has merely described what he has seen, 
trusting his fancy just far enough to weave into one 
web characters and incidents which were real but 
disconnected. It has been murmured that the 
characters and incidents are too real, that the ori- 
ginals are readily recognized, and that in portraying 
them the author has taken unwarrantable liberties. 
Against this reproach he may be permitted a word 
of defence. 

Ten years ago it was his privilege to meet among 
the Catskills a group of artists, and to learn some- 
thing of their work. He remembers particularly 
Mr. Gifford’s sketches. They were half a dozen di- 
rect transcripts from nature, a foot square or more, 
and chosen for some special effect. Here was a 
white birch, with peeling bark and broken limb. 


7 


8 


PREFACE 


Here was a rock curiously girt with moss. Here 
was a vista between two huge trees, with peculiar 
effects of light and shadow. None of them were 
pictures ; they were but materials for a picture. 
When autumn came, the artist packed them up and 
carried them to his studio. There he worked them 
in as details of a golden landscape, so grouping and 
blending them that, while still true to nature, they 
united in a single scene the beauties which a sum- 
mer’s search had found in all the Catskills. 

Something like this, it seems to the author, must 
be the method of all art, even of the trifling art 
which tells a story. To imagine is but to recombine, 
and the originality of the new conception depends 
upon the minuteness of the previous analysis. The 
novelist niay deal with principles of human nature, 
and may produce characters which he never met, 
but which are typical of all he ever met. The story- 
teller must be content to take men and women as he 
finds them, and such of their actions as happen to 
come to his knowledge. If he can gather incidents 
here and there, and group them in such connection 
that they illustrate something he wants to describe, 
he is well content. Such has been the author’s aim ; 
and if he deals with what he has observed rather 


PREFACE 


9 


than with what he might imagine, it is because he 
feels more confidence in his experience than in his 
imagination. It has been no part of his purpose to 
make unkind reference to any individual ; and when 
complaint has been made by one or another person 
who recognized himself in some disagreeable person- 
age in this story, it has comforted the author to find 
that other persons in other parts of the State had 
recognized themselves as the originals of the very 
same characters. 

But the author remembers that no one ever reads 
a preface, and so introduces Roderick Hume to the 
public without further ceremony. 

Syracuse, Sept 30, 1878. 














.?•? .'AA. • .' -^ , 

■"' ' ■*; * ' 


w 4 




+ /N- -f t 

' * • • 


, v--* 


^'4' 




'V^ ■■* •■ - •'‘‘ ."7 7 - 

■" -.V ^ . •.r.- ' ’./|^ ,• .- ■ 

• L^.-Vx^-^ ^ • '. • V- ‘ ^ 'f 4 f , . ■ • i- / * ’^C . V - . •* . , *. ■? A' 

e - 4 * • » •• • - ^ ?• • . « •’ / 


c» 


■ 

• > ‘ 


\f‘:.;f%’ iT'*‘' ' ■: 

• * • • 


v.rt.-rv'", 1 ,^.' ,- .^ ?•-*' 






.f* 


y 


;v 


. : ' ^ '•; - C 

|U>> g ^ W , • *l*,»,‘ '«. 4 'I, . ' ,• 

Sxi ^jr’.'- 


> \ 'i‘ . 

Vr h ». 


•'- -* '» *4 


.' * ** t, 


-1 




L^feVr ’- ■ • »- , •? ' * •’ 

- 7 ';, > ‘----r^f,: 

. .r_ ^ V V,>- V- ‘ ^ ^ x' 






r'vA'.t* rt;Jv 


> 


. - • -• ' • ' 

• » • 

' — ^ • I - 




»/. •» 


4 . 








i: 


* 

•V. 


■ * : t 



- I 


B r* * , 


• --*. I 


p 


• i ‘ ♦ 


\ : 
**■ 


V ^ **'*'^ ' i 

-. -B • ^.?3» ..f^o' * ..*• ^'• • 4 ^ 

k *f ■ •*“ > * 5 


4 i 


^4 


> 

/ f' 


•- C- 

.-L •>’ 


L >w ■ 

■ V 


/• 

■V 


/•« 






- ! >< 


% 


V 




A •_ 

■ %• 


• » 


»-i 


V • 

' n ' 

K 

m 

\ 


I 

V V • 


.<r; t > 

V 

_ i.. 


r" 

j « 


• •. - 


' • 



V wi. 

■ -v^ 

-.1 - ' •: 




♦ ^ 




. :% jv 




- ; . 


> - 

. * 





L" ' '’v*. ^ - "" 's '!*#"'>■ - - . •' • •- - •' 


PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 


The call for a new set of plates has led the author 
to re-read this story carefully ; but he has thought 
best to make only slight changes. The fact is, the 
story is still so real to him that it seems more like 
a biography than a novel ; and he can no more under- 
take to change the characters or the incidents than 
to alter the date of the Norman conquest^ or the name 
of the fourteenth president of the United States. 

Though he told the story sixteen years ago, 
many of the characters may be seen to-day as he 
described them. Mr. Coy and Mr. Dormouse are 
still members of the Norway board of education. 
Mr. Abrahams still treads like an elephant, and Mute 
Herring’s mustache still determines elections. Tom 
Baker, and Roderick, and Mary Lowe, and the Blars- 
tons have appeared in a later story. ^ Professor Cobb 
and Mr. Hogoboom have gone the way of all the 
earth, and the Alps Collegiate Institute is closed at 
last and finally, but not till several more attempts 
had been made to resuscitate it. 


i Commissioner Hume, a story of New York Schools, 
ll 


12 


PREFACE rO THE SECOND EDITION 


Mr. Whittlehe still strives persistently to intro- 
duce Rabbit’s Geographies ; and Theodore Hook still 
plans victories and wins them, though he is leaving 
the harder work to younger men. Sorrell has risen 
into prominence as a publisher, and finds in E. Riker 
a formidable rival. Turbid is principal of a Brook- 
lyn grammar school ; and Bismarck died in the har- 
ness, with fewer enemies than any other agent ever 
had who achieved so many triumphs. Cockrell and 
Umber have dropped out qf sight and remembrance ; 
perhaps the latter finally opened his cigar-store. 

Coming back to his hotel in Paris one evening, 
the author found a note from Cynthia Brown, and 
hastened to call on her. He found her as irrepressi- 
ble and as charming as ever. European hotel-life 
suited her to a dot. She had no responsibilities, and 
if any part of her wardrobe had given but it could be 
replaced on occasion at an hour’s notice. 

So as the characters of the story have changed so 
little, why should the story change ^ Let it stand 
as it first appeared. No other work the author has 
ever done has brought him so many grateful ac- 
knowledgments, and he hopes that in its new and 
handsomer dress it may still find readers. 

Syracuse, Nov. 6, 1894. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

The Teachers’ Bureau 17 

CHAPTER II. 

What makes a Teacher Successfui 24 

CHAPTER III. 

A New York Academy 34 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Alps Collegiate Institute 42 

CHAPTER V. 

The Norway Free High School and College Prepara- 
tory Institution 59 

CHAPTER VI. - 

Roderick interviews a Board of Education 67 

CHAPTER VH. 

Roderick gets Acquainted 83 

CHAIH'ER VHI. 

Roderick fails in Discipline 93 

CHAPTER IX. 

Miss Dlizenkerrie wins a Victory 105 

CHAPTER X. 

“Call Me ‘Eunice’” 119 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Preceptress 125 


14 CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XII. PAGE. 

A Catastrophe and Its Consequences 139 

CHAPTER XHI. 

vSeLF-INSPECTION . . . . ■ 149 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Regents’ Examination 165 

CHAPTER XV. 

An Unlucky Vacation 180 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Vic PlarstoN 21 1 


CHAPTER XVIL 

A Change of Text-Books . . . 4 218 


chapter XVIII. 

A School-Board Election 244 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Mlschievous Autograph Album 257 

CHAPTER XX. 

A ('risis 266 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Roderick is put on Triai 274 

CHAPTER XXH. 

Mary Lowe at Home . .285 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Knot loosened 296 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Knot untied 303 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Auf Wiedersehen . ... .... 308 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER I. 

THE teachers’ BUREAU 

T WANT a place to teach school.” 

1 The speaker was a young man of medium height, 
and broad but somewhat stooping shoulders. His face 
was frank and earnest. His eyes and his voice ex- 
pressed directness and decision. 

All this the manager took in while he was reaching 
for a blank application-form. 

“ He means business,” said the manager to himself. 
To the applicant he said : — 

“You will fill this blank, please.” 

The stranger seated himself at a neighboring desk, 
and glanced over the questions with the quizzical 
smile usually assumed by a man who considers him- 
self modest, when asked to describe himself. 

“ Name. Roderick Hume,” he wrote readily enough. 

Age. Twenty-four. 

“ Where educated. Graduated at Wilbraham in 
1867, and at Wesleyan University in 1871. 


i8 


RODERICK HUME 


Experience in teaching. Mostly private, fitting 
boys for college. 

“ What can yon teach best? College preparatory 
studies. 

“ Canyon teach common English branches ? Presume 
not, without cramming. 

“ Higher English ? Probably I could, in the usual 
vague manner, and with the usual vaguer results. 

Latin? Yes. 

Greek ? Yes. 

“ Frcjuli ? Have done it, but I ought to be ashamed 
of it. I can read it fairly well, but couldn’t order a 
dinner in it without special preparation. 

“ German ? Ditto, only more so. 

“ Any other languages ? Not worth mentioning. 

Singmg? Yes; but I don’t mean to. I haven’t 
patience enough. 

^Hnstrnmental mnsic? Yes; the drum. I learned 
it in the army ; but I don’t insist upon its being made 
a part of the curriculum. 

“ Eloention ? I can teach that it is a humbug, at 
least as usually understood and practised. 

“ Gyjnnastics ? No; but I can cut the Dutch Roll 
backwards, and play a fair first-base. 

‘‘Are yon maiiied? No; I don’t mind adding 
that I don’t mean to be, at present. 

“ Are yon a chnrch member? Yes. 

“ Give reference to some one who knoivs yon person- 
ally. President Joseph Cummings, Middletown, Conn. 


THE TEACIIEES^ BUREAU 


19 


“ Give reference to seme one zvJio knoivs of yon as a 
tcacJier. Major-General Andrew S. Jessup, of Wind- 
ham Military Institute. 

“ What kind of a position do you desire ? Principal 
of a public school, or first-class department work. 

“ What salary ? Not less than ^1,000, and as 
much more as I can get.” 

Roderick read over his answers carefully, and was 
satisfied with them. He reasoned that the more in- 
dividuality he infused into them, the more likely his 
application would be to make an impression and be 
remembered. So he handed in the paper, accom- 
panied by the registration fee of two dollars. 

“ I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hume,” 
said the manager, after looking over the paper. “ I 
will write at once to the gentlemen you refer to, and 
shall be able to talk with you about one or two 
positions next Saturday.” 

When Roderick presented himself the manager 
greeted him cordially. 

“ Your references are very satisfactory, Mr. Hume ; 
very satisfactory. You are certainly entitled to a 
desirable position.” 

“ Then you really did write to them ? ” asked Rod- 
erick in some surprise. “ I took it for granted that 
this asking for references was only a matter of form, 
and never dreamed of your wasting any postage 
stamps upon them.” 

The manager smiled. 


20 


RODERICK HUME 


“ How do you suppose we can feel safe in recom- 
mending one of whose past history we know nothing 
save from his own statements ? ” he asked. 

“Why, from his appearance,” said Roderick im- 
petuously. “ I would give more for five minutes’ 
talk with a man, face to face, than for all the in- 
formation I could get about him in a week of 
correspondence.” 

“ That is a common opinion,” replied the manager 
suavely, “ particularly among those of limited expe- 
rience. I have furnished positions to nearly four 
hundred and fifty teachers, and I know somewhat 
intimately as many more. My success in business 
depends entirely upon my skill in putting men where 
they will fit. I used to rely mainly upon what I 
could judge of an applicant from his speech and 
manner. A good many mortifying blunders have 
taught me that reliable persons who have known him 
five years can assist me materially in sustaining or 
modifying a judgment I have had to form in five 
minutes.” 

“ But will they assist you ? ” persisted Roderick. 
“ All replies I ever saw to references might have 
been printed from stereotyped plates. They have 
always known the young man a long time, they 
esteem him very highly, and anything you can do to 
further his interests will be held by them in high 
appreciation. Of course no one would refer to any- 
body who was too ill-natured to say this.” 


THE TEA CHETS' BUREAU 


21 


“ On the contrary, fully one-third of the references 
given us are answered to the discredit of the appli- 
cant. Whether it is that they assume, as you did, 
that the reference will never be used, and therefore 
select the most noted person of their acquaintance be- 
cause the name looks better ; or whether, as is more 
likely, they really have no conception of the contempt 
in which they are held, I don’t know. But we get 
some responses that would make the applicant’s ears 
tingle. We consider them confidential, but I will 
read you one as a specimen, omitting names. It is 
from the president of one of our oldest colleges,” 
continued the manager, as he drew forth a letter 
from a convenient pigeon hole. “ Listen to this : — 

‘ Dear Sir, — The blanks sent by you for information re- 
garding Mr. . I return, carefully and conscientiously filled. 

They intelligibly outline his personal peculiarities. I will only 
add that he has thus far disgraced every institution with which 
he has been connected, and that he has every prospect of main- 
taining his reputation. 

' Very truly yours.’ “ 

“ What are the blanks referred to ? ” inquired 
Roderick, feeling that he would very much like to 
see what President Cummings had written of him. 

“ Oh ! we ask a good many questions ; whether 
anything is known to the discredit of the applicant ; 
what are his individual, social, and business habits ; 
whether his personal appearance is pleasing, ancl 
many others.” 


22 


RODERICK HUME 


Do you get all these questions answered ? ” 

“ Not always. But we urge that the replies will 
be held sacredly confidential, to be used only in en- 
abling us to judge where it is safe for us to send a 
man ; and that nothing can be more important than 
that the teachers of our children shall be in every 
way suitable for their positions. We add that if no 
answer is received we shall assume that nothing 
could be said except to the injury of the applicant. 
So we usually get some reply.” 

“ But are the replies discriminating and honest } ” 
Hardly ever. There are few who understand 
that severity, when deserved, is often true charity.; 
still fewer who, when they mean that a man has 
taught a fairly satisfactory school, can refrain from 
saying that he is the best teacher they ever saw. 
For all this we learn to make allowance.” 

Roderick laughed. 

“ Do you know I have a mind to ask a favor .^ ” he 
said, with a hesitation unusual with him. 

“ What is it .^ ” 

“ I would like to know what Dr. Cummings thinks 
of my personal appearance. I really have never 
been told what kind of a looking fellow I am to 
others.” 

This time the manager laughed, and looked at his 
candidate somewhat closely. Evidently Roderick 
was honestly doubtful. 

‘‘ I will read you what the doctor says ' 


THE TEACHERS^ BURE AH 


23 


‘ Personal appearance. Manly and pleasing. 

‘ Dress. Neat and simple. 

^Social qualifications. Reserved with strangers, but agree- 
able and fond of society.’ ” 

“That will do,” said Roderick, “and I am very 
much obliged.” 

He said no more about it, but was evidently grati- 
fied and somewhat surprised. The fact was, he had 
started lovy. He had been a hired hand on a farm, 
a striker in a foundery, a private in the army. He 
had a high ideal, and felt confident of his intellectual 
ability. But he knew that social position and the 
graces of society were not his by birthright or cul- 
ture ; and he felt that it was only by now and then 
using the opinions of others to measure his height, 
that he could feel assured how far he had risen on 
the social ladder. 


24 


IWDERJCK HUME 


CHAPTER II. 

WHAT MAKES A TEACHER SUCCESSFUL 

“TXTHAT constitutes a successful teacher.^” 
V V asked Roderick. 

“You ask a hard question. One would naturally 
name among the first requisites thorough scholarship. 
In department work, at least, where a man is respon- 
sible only for instruction in a single subject, or class 
of studies, we might expect almost profound learning. 
But we seldom find even a desire for profound learn- 
ing. I called once upon the instructor in natural 
science in one of our largest high schools. Ap- 
paratus had been lavishly provided by the board of 
education ; few colleges are so well supplied. I was 
particularly interested in a spectroscope which had 
been imported at the cost of nearly four hundred 
dollars, and I promised to return after school to see 
it tried. I did so, in company with a friend, and the 
instructor made pompous preparation for the display. 
It soon appeared that the only substance he had ever 
tried was common salt. I scraped up a little dust 
from the table in the laboratory and placed it under 
the instrument, He nOt only did not know what 


WHAT MAKES A TEACHER SUCCESSFUL 25 

substance the bands in the spectrum indicated, but 
he did not know how to find out what they indicated. 
I asked for charts of the spectrum ; and he said he 
had none, although four of the volumes displayed in 
the rack upon the table contained as frontispieces 
the very charts wanted. When we had entered we 
had passed through the laboratory, and paused to 
admire the profusion of chemicals. My friend asked 
him if he taught physics as well as chemistry. He 
replied in the negative, adding that he gave instruc- 
tion only in chemistry and natural philosophy.” 

“Probably he didn’t stay there long,” 'said Rod- 
erick. 

“ On the contrary, he is there to-day, and will stay 
as long as he cares to. He does not happen to be 
regarded as a successful teacher, but nobody has 
complained of his scholarship. In fact, there is 
nobody to find out anything about it. The princi- 
pal of the school knows nothing whatever of natural 
science, and the board of education is entirely 
political. 

“ I know another man elected to precisely the same 
position in another city. A boy in the school, who 
had natural aptitude for taxidermy and kindred arts, 
had articulated successfully the skeleton of a large 
tom-cat. On the first day this teacher appeared 
before his class, he congratulated them upon having 
so excellent a skeleton of the ant-eater. The boy 
who had set it up rather curtly interposed that it 


26 


RODERICK HUME 


wasn’t an ant-eater, but a tom-cat. The teacher told 
him he must be mistaken, and proceeded to prove it. 
The boy replied that he had killed the tom-cat him- 
self, and ought to know. The teacher persisted, 
pointing out that the jaws had no teeth. The boy 

retorted by showing the sockets from which the 

teeth had fallen out. Even then the teacher yielded 
very reluctantly, and never fairly confessed that he 
had made an absurd blunder.” 

“ Wasn’t he quite a young man } ” asked Roderick. 

“ Yes ; he had been out of the normal school only 
a year.” 

“ Then he ought not to be condemned for this 
single slip, so almost inevitable when one attempts 
to show off. I once held a like position, and did 

quite as silly things. In college I learned chemistry 

only from two terms of text-book work, and when I 
came to teach it I found I knew nothing of it prac- 
tically. I began, as most beginners do, by spilling a 
little acid upon my trousers, thus making a red spot. 
A fellow-teacher asked me if I could not restore the 
color, and I replied, no ; that the color had been 
burned out. Of course I could have told her very 
glibly about litmus, but it had not occurred to me that 
ammonia would restore the blue in my pantaloons 
as readily as in the test-paper. 

“ A few days after, I was showing chemicals to 
the class, and one of them inquired if I had any 
aqua-fortis. I replied that I had none, ^ That looks 


WI/AT MAKES A TEACHER SUCCESS EC/E 2*J 

like it,’ she said, pointing to a glass-stoppered bottle. 
‘ No,’ said I ; ‘that is nitric acid.’ ” 

“ Did you afterward acknowledge your mistake } ” 
asked the manager, eying Roderick rather keenly. 

“ Oh, no ! it wouldn’t have done at that time. 
You see, I was just beginning, and was making blun- 
ders all the time. If they discovered one, they would 
be stimulated to watch for more. While I was get- 
ting started, I covered up everything as well as I 
could. In this case, of course, I looked up aqua- 
fortis after school, and found it was the same as 
nitric acid. I knew that some of the class would 
look it up with the same result, so I took care the 
next day to say incidentally that the contents of our 
bottles were all chemically pure ; that this clear 
yellow liquid, for instance, was real nitric acid, and 
not the similar but impure article known in commerce 
as aqua-fortis.” 

“ But this sort of deception cannot be maintained 
with a class very long, Mr. Hume. One may deceive 
men and women for years, but scholars will find one 
out.” 

“ Oh, you may be sure I got out of these blunders 
as soon as I could. The first Saturday that came 
around I went to Boston, called on Professor Eliot, 
told him just the predicament I was in, and asked 
him to let me spend my Saturdays in the laboratory of 
the School of Technology. He gave me as a private 
tutor a student in one of the special courses, and I 


28 


RODERICK HUME 


soon picked up the habit of handling apparatus and 
performing experiments. In fact, after four or five 
Saturdays I believed that in manipulation I had 
caught up with my instructor. We were to make 
chlorine gas. The apparatus was prepared, the oxide 
was in the flask, and the acid had been poured upon 
it. No gas came over. What could the matter be } 
My tutor was at a loss. He examined the connec- 
tions of the tubing, looked at the bottle to see that 
he had taken the right acid, into the drawer to see 
that he had taken the right powder. ‘ I really can't 
see what the trouble is,’ he said. Then I looked at 
the book, and suggested that we were directed to 
heat the flask. We did so, and the gas came off 
abundantly. I concluded that if it was I who was to 
give the instruction it should not be I who paid for 
it. So I settled with him, and thereafter did my 
own experimenting. And, what is more, I taught my 
class considerable chemistry, little as I knew when 
I began. Indeed, before the term was half over I 
could acknowledge a mistake with perfect safety.” 

“ I see you agree with Josh Billings, that the 
wise man is not he who never makes a mistake, 
but he who never makes the same mistake a second 
time.” 

“ Precisely. I could never undefstand how a 
teacher can be contented to reply to the same ques- 
tion day after day, ‘ I don’t know.’ It is perhaps 
excvisable that he should not know when he is first 


IV//AT MAKES A TEACHER SUCCESSEt/L 2g 

asked. But his attention has now been called to his 
deficiency, and he should seize the earliest opportu- 
nity to make it good. I have seen a principal sit 
with his elbow leaning upon Webster’s Unabridged, 
and reply to the question whether it was Webster or 
Worcester who spelled offence with an i-, ‘I really 
don’t remember.’ ” 

“ Thus showing himself ignorant of the end to be 
attained by school instruction, which is the acquisi- 
tion, not of information, but of knowledge how to* 
acquire information, and a habit of acquiring it when 
it is wanted.” 

“ But to get back to our sheep,” said Roderick. 
“ If scholarship is not a requisite to success in teach- 
ing, what is ? ” 

Roderick Hume was not a ready talker. He had 
nothing of the light wit which flashes from subject to 
subject, illuminating the most frothy topics, and at 
the service indifferently of friend or stranger, phi- 
losopher or dibutaTife. Nor was he, on the other 
hand, a deep thinker. But his mind was quick to 
catch a suggestive thought, his reading had been 
careful, and his memory supplied upon occasion the 
essence of whatever he had heard or read which 
could be made available. He was, therefore, easily 
drawn out when brought face to face with thought or 
experience, and became at once an intelligent listener, 
and an earnest debater. It was then that he showed 
most of his real self ; of his strength, which lay in his 


30 


kODKklCK: HUME 


candor and earnestness ; of his weakness, which lay 
in his impulsiveness. He never said what he did not 
believe ; but he believed too readily, and expressed 
himself too positively. All this the manager had 
seen, and had continued the conversation in order 
to study him more thoroughly. 

“ The fellow will make a distinct mark of some 
sort,” he thought to himself. “ It will pay me to 
know him intimately, and follow his career.” 

So he replied : — 

“ You must bear in mind that in this office we must 
measure success by popular approval. ‘ How much 
is he paid ? ’ ‘ How well is he liked ? ’ ‘ How much 

does he have his own way ? ’ These are the questions 
we have to ask in deciding how well a man is likely 
to succeed in another position. Of course these 
queries cover very inadequately the real question, 

‘ How competent is he to develop his pupils into 
intelligent men and women } ’ But so imperfect is 
modern .supervision that, in appraising teachers for 
the school-board market, we have to consider mainly 
what they can show in the way of what are called 
tangible, almost statistical, results. 

“ Looking at the matter in this light, the first qual- 
ification is tact. Our teachers are elected annually. 
To be re-elected they must get votes. To get votes 
they must be in the good graces of the board of edu- 
cation, For this it should be necessary only that the 
teacher keep a good school. But some of the mem- 


WHAT MAKES A TEACHES SUCCESSEUL 5 1 


bers of an ordinary board of education never visit the 
school. Hardly any of them would know whether a 
good school was being kept if they did visit it. They 
therefore judge of the principal partly by what the 
scholars say, and partly by their own personal acquaint- 
ance with him. Most of them are business men, with 
whose habits and tastes the teacher has very little in 
common ; hence he is apt to approach them only upon 
business connected with the school. But the man of 
tact takes pains to get acquainted with them, and 
shows them that he is a royal good fellow, and that he 
thinks they are royal good fellows. He takes pains 
to ask their advice upon subjects that they -know 
nothing about, but will be flattered to be supposed 
to know something about. He takes pains that their 
children and the children of their neighbors shall be 
noticed in school, and given prominent places at pub- 
lic entertainments, avoiding at the same time any 
suspicion of partiality. In short, he recognizes the 
fact that very few people know whether he is impart- 
ing instruction upon the principles of sound education, 
but that all people like to receive attention. And he 
will succeed. If he has with this tact fair scholar- 
ship, fair disciplinary power, and the habit of living 
within his .salary, he will .stay as long as he wants to. 
If he lacks any or all of these he will see in advance 
at just what election the majority will turn against 
him, and resign in time to get a flaming recommen- 
dation from a unanimous board. 


32 


RODERICK HUME 


“ Now, do not understand me that a man cannot 
succeed without this tact. An earnest, conscientious, 
judicious man of good attainments may usually hold 
himself above any mere considerations of policy. But 
under our system of annual elections by political 
boards of education, tact is the only quality certain 
of success.” 

“ I don’t believe I have tact,” said Roderick, won- 
dering if the manager would think him earnest, con- 
scientious, and judicious enough to get along without 
it. 

“To be frank with you,” was the reply, “I don’t 
think you have. You are too positive, too outspoken, 
too independent. You will meet considerable diffi- 
culty that you will afterward see how you could have 
avoided, and that you ought to have avoided. I think 
you will do well to cultivate the habit of consulting 
the members of the board ; for you are by law only 
their agent in the general management of the school. 
Even if they are incompetent, and if they seem will- 
ing to leave everything in your hands, you will find it 
wise to consult them, both to relieve yourself from 
unnecessary responsibility, and to gratify them with 
exercising at least the semblance of the power with 
which they are intrusted.” 

At this point the manager was called away for a 
few moments, leaving Roderick thoughtful but con- 
fident. The advice was excellent, and of some assis- 
tance. But if leopards change their spots, it is only 


WZ/AT MAJtES A TEACHER St7CCESSEl7L 33 


by gradual development through successive genera- 
tions. Master Tommy Cheetah may usually be recog- 
nized in Hon. Thomas Cheetah, LL.D., even though 
he has moved in very good society through the inter- 
vening years. 


34 


kODilRICK HUMR 


CHAPTER III. 

A NEW YORK ACADEMY 

HEN the manager returned, he spent some 



V V time with Roderick in looking over the book 
of applications for teachers. Here was a college 
that wanted a professor of natural sciences, able to 
take classes also in French, German, and arithmetic, 
a good disciplinarian, and willing to assume charge of 
the boarding-hall ; salary ;^8oo. Here was a union 
school that wanted a good principal, but insisted that 
he should be a Presbyterian, with a wife and at least 
two children. Here was a private school that wanted 
a college graduate, able to teach ancient and modern 
languages, mathematics and arithmetic, fencing, dan- 
cing, and military drill, and with a large acquaintance 
among people with children to send away to school ; 
salary ;^6oo, and found. One exasperated board of 
education demanded a principal who would not give 
all his time to Sunday-schools ; another stipulated for 
a man six feet high and broad in proportion ; while a 
third stated that preference would be given to one 
who could “ coerce the young by mild measures.” 

A village not far from the city was willing to pay 


A NEW YORK ACADEMY 35 

$1,200 to a normal graduate of successful experience 
in a similar school. Though Roderick lacked both 
the normal diploma and the experience, the manager 
thought he could insure him the position. Roderick 
was quite willing to accept it ; and the manager was 
about to fill a blank recommendation, when he paused, 
turned to the book, read over carefully one of the 
applications for a principal, looked out the place on 
the map, took down half a dozen Regents’ Reports 
and compared certain statistics, after which he looked 
up and asked abruptly, — 

“ Have you any ready money ” Roderick replied 
that he had some four or five hundred dollars in the 
savings bank. 

“ Then I advise you not to take the place we have 
been speaking of. It is of a low grade, in a rude 
neighborhood, and under control of ignorant trustees. 
The expenses of living are so high that the salary is 
really small. You would find it hard to keep your 
place, and harder still to get out of it into a better 
one. 

“Now I am going to propose a speculation. The 
Alps Collegiate Institute wants a principal who shall 
' assume the entire control, subject not even to the 
nominal board of trustees. You can have the build- 
ing free of rent, hire your own teachers, pocket all 
the tuition and State appropriations, and be lord of 
all you survey.” 

“ Where are these Alpine heights that promise 


■ 3 § 


Roderick hum'e 


so much glory ? ” asked Roderick, his fancy rather 
tickled by the prospect. 

“ The school is located at Chimborazo, a village in 
the town of Australia, in Macedonia county. It used 
to be on the stage road between Buffalo and Albany, 
and was an important place fifty years ago. The 
canal and the railroad both left it to one side, the 
daily coaches ceased to run, and it has grown seedy. 
But it still has cultivated people and pleasant homes, 
and it is but five miles from Norway, a station on the 
Central Railroad. The school was once one of the 
most influential in the State. But it was unfor- 
tunately managed, ran into debt, was mortgaged, 
didn’t pay the interest, and finally fell into the hands 
of a wealthy but miserly resident, who practically 
owns it, but keeps it under the nominal control of a 
board of trustees, in order to save taxes and draw 
State money when the school is in session.” 

“ I don’t understand about this State money,” said 
Roderick. 

“ The State has what is called the Literature Fund, 
yielding $\ 2,000 a year, to which is added $28,000 a 
.year from the United States Deposit Fund, — in all 
$40,000 a year. This is distributed among the 
academies of the State by the Regents of the Uni- 
versity of the State of New York.” 

“ Where is this university I never heard of it.” 

“ It is nowhere and everywhere. It has not a build- 
ing of its own, and yet it extends over every county 


A NEIF YORK ACADEMY 


37 


in the State. Some call it a humbug ; a legal fiction. 
Others think it the most distinctive and creditable 
feature of our school system. 

“In brief, nineteen men, elected for life, make up, 
with certain ex-officio members, the Board of Regents. 
This board has power to incorporate colleges and 
academies, and receive them under its visitation. 
Most of the colleges and academies of the State have 
been so incorporated, and are thus under visitation. 
These colleges and academies, and among the latter 
are now being received the academic departments of 
most union schools, make up the University of the 
State of New York, which thus embraces some three 
hundred institutions and thirty thousand students.” 

“ But what is meant by being under the visitation 
of the Regents } ” 

“ Very little. The Regents require certain reports 
from all these institutions, and they hold examinations 
three times a year to determine how many of the 
scholars who attend each institution shall be counted 
as academic scholars in distributing the $40,000. 
Those who pass these examinations receive a certifi- 
cate and are called Regents’ scholars. Thereafter 
they are counted as academic scholars as long as they 
attend school. The $40,000 is divided each year by 
the entire number of Regents’ scholars attending 
school in all these academies, which gives a certain 
sum per pupil. This sum, multiplied by the number 
of Regents’ scholars in each academy, gives the amount 
to which that academy is entitled,” 


38 


RODERICK HUME 


“ Then, the amount of State money received depends 
upon the number of scholars the principal gets through 
these examinations ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ Where are the examinations held ? ” 

“ At each academy simultaneously.” 

“ I should think there would be cheating.” 

“ There is. One principal was detected twice, and 
lost his entire appropriation each time. In many in- 
stances there arises suspicion ; often unjust, no 
doubt. But the rules are strict, and the affirmations 
required of both scholars and examining committee 
are so unequivocal that only very mean men will 
evade them. And the number of mean men among 
teachers is certainly not greater than in other profes- 
sions. The general effect of these examinations has 
been excellent.” 

“ What was the amount last year for each Re- 
gents’ scholar ? ” 

“ About seven dollars ; but for two years the legis- 
lature had added ^125,000 to the income of the 
Literature Fund, to be distributed in the same way, 
till Warner Miller defeated it at the last session of 
the Assembly. A strong effort is being made to 
restore it, and it is supposed it will be continued.” 1 

1 This hope, though vigorous in 1874, was never realized. The amount 
appropriated for each Regents’ scholar in 1877 was ^5.15, and it has been 
gradually reduced, as the number of Regents’ schools increased. There are 
also appropriations now for pupils who have passed examinations of a higher 
grado, 


A NE IV YORK ACADEMY 


39 


‘‘Then, for every scholar who passes a fair ex- 
amination in arithmetic, geography, grammar, and 
spelling I draw and put into my own pocket thirty 
dollars.” 

“Yes.” 

“ How many were there last year ? ” 

“ It is not given in this report, but I have it in a 
newspaper slip. Here it is. The amount received 
was $20.73, which shows that there were three Re- 
gents’ scholars.” 

“ Why, how many scholars were there alto- 
gether } ” 

“ Seventy-eight, the application says.” 

“ And out of seventy-eight scholars attending an 
academy, only three could pass an easy examination 
in arithmetic, geography, grammar, and spelling ? ” 

“ That is all.” 

“ Why, in the name of education, what were the 
other seventy-five studying 

“ I can’t tell for last year ; but two years ago, 
according to this report, there were altogether one 
hundred and nine scholars, of whom four had passed 
the Regents’ examination. This table shows that of 
the one hundred and nine, ten studied Latin, twenty- 
seven higher mathematics, forty-two one or more of 
the natural sciences, and sixty-five elocution.” 

“ No wonder the school ran down.” 

“ Many another school runs down in the same 
way. These Regents’ examinations happen to afford 


40 


RODERICK HUME 


in their results a test of the thoroughness of instruc- 
tion in the fundamental branches. Before the test 
was applied no doubt the defects were as great, and 
greater, only they were not detected.” 

“ There will be a stop to this slipshod work if I go 
there,” said Roderick firmly. 

“ Don’t be too sure of immediate results. It 
seems a simple thing to train a class of young men 
and women to solve correctly fifteen out of twenty 
miscellaneous problems in arithmetic ; but you will 
find first that these young men and women don’t 
want to study arithmetic ; they have been through 
the book. Then, that they have that little knowl- 
edge of arithmetic — a sort of familiarity acquired by 
sitting with the book before them, turning over the 
pages, and calling it study — which is emphatically 
a dangerous thing, because it keeps them from the 
knowledge that they need knowledge. Finally, that 
even after their ambition is aroused, they have no 
habit of study or power of application. In time you 
may bring up your school to a point where classes 
that should pass the Regents’ will pass it. But don’t 
hope too much at first.” 

“Then, from what sources am I to look for my 
income } ” 

“ First, to tuition. This should average six dollars 
a term, three terms a year, from a hundred scholars ; 
say ;^i, 500 , clear of bad debts. In addition you can 
count on a teachers’ class of twenty, for which the 


A NEW YORK ACADEMY 


41 


State will pay you ^200. I think you can pass 
fifteen Regents’ scholars in the course of the year, 
who will bring you say $400. Your music and draw- 
ing should pay you $100 each more than they cost 
you. As you are not married, you will probably not 
care to manage the boarding department ; but I 
think you could let it for $200 and your own board. 
This gives you $ 2,^00 and board, out of which you 
can hire two women teachers at $500 each, and clear 
$1,500. Of course these are mere estimates; but 
they are based on what the school has done, even in 
the past year or two, after years of fluctuating, 
greedy, and incapable management. If you clear 
$1,000 the first year, and remain five years, you may 
reasonably hope for an average income of $2,000. 
There. are principals of similar schools who make two 
or three times that.” 

I will go there at once and look the ground 
over,” said Roderick. And he took the train that 
night. 


42 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE ALPS COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 

I T was not yet light when the porter roused Rod- 
erick from his berth with the announcement that 
Norway was the next station. Yet when the trav- 
eller stepped from the train, rubbing his eyes, he was 
assailed by half a dozen runners, one of whom wanted 
him to go to the only brick hotel in the town, another 
to the only first-class hotel, another to the only hotel 
with bathrooms attached, another to the only hotel 
in the heart of the business part of the village, 
another to the only hotel with sample rooms on the 
first floor, and another to the original and only hotel 
that had run under the same management for two 
consecutive years. As Roderick was the sole pas- 
senger to get off, the competition was brisk. He 
finally chose the last, hoping to learn something of 
the recent history of the Alps Collegiate Institute 
from the only landlord who had been able to keep a 
hotel for two consecutive years. So he entered the 
long, dismal Black Maria of a stage, and peered 
through the enamelled cloth curtains at the village, 
as he was driven rapidly to its farther border. 

Norway was evidently new, prosperous, and vtU- 


THE ALPS COLLEGIA TE INSTITUTE 43 

gar. The streets were distressingly straight, and 
crossed at monotonous right angles. The maple- 
trees were young and in exact rows. The houses 
were board palaces in which the lumber employed 
had been made to cover the greatest possible amount 
of outside surface. The stores were brick blocks, 
four or five stories high, with two floors occupied. 
There was an Opera House with a Monster Combi- 
nation, Six Shows in One, advertised on its bulletin 
boards. There were half a dozen churches, each 
with a steeple three feet higher than the others. 
There was a schoolhouse set on an inaccessible sandy 
hill, and without a shade-tree around it, but with 
marvellously broad walls of unrelieved red brick. 
There was even a Theological Seminary, the entire 
endowment of which, together with the subscription 
of the village of Norway to secure its location at 
that place, had been invested in one rectangular brick 
edifice, stuccoed in imitation of brown stone. 

The hotel which had been run for two consecutive 
years under one management was a cheap country 
tavern. Roderick washed in a tin basin, dipping the 
water with a tin dipper out of a wooden pail. He 
wiped his face upon a long towel mounted upon a 
roller, and looking as if it had been run there for 
two consecutive years without renewal. The break- 
fast-table was rather extravagantly adorned with new 
silver-plated ware, however, a smart drummer for a 
Connecticut factory having recently made large sale^ 


44 


RODERICK HUME 


all through this region by showing to each landlord 
the orders given by the rest, and stimulating him to 
surpass them in lavishness. The waiter came up to 
him and remarked, “ Fshfshbfstkmutnchps.” He 
took some ; found the fish all bones, and the beef- 
steak barely warmed in grease. 

The landlord, a fat, red-nosed man who liked to 
talk, spied him out and sat down by him. 

“ Stranger ’n these parts, I reckon,” he said to 
Roderick. 

“Bright, smart place this,” he continued, jerking 
his dirty thumb-nail in the direction of the village. 
“ Gut the start of ol’ Chimbrazo. Might V’ h’d the 
railro’d through thar, but th’ were too gol durned 
stingy ’n’ airy. We weren’t nothin’ but a superb 
then. Now we’ve gut two hundred ’nd seventy-one 
more population, three more banks, two more meetin’- 
houses, ’n’ a hundred more scholars in our Free High 
School ’ll’ College Preparatory Institootion.” 

Upon further inquiry Roderick learned that the 
Alps Collegiate Institute had been for some years an 
object of envy to the ambitious citizens of the new 
village. An enterprising young fellow, who had been 
engaged to teach the Norway district school for 
thirty-five dollars a month, had taken advantage of 
this feeling and worked up among the leading busi- 
ness men a desire for a union school. A meeting 
was appointed, a brass band paraded the streets for 
the two hours before, monstrous banners were carried. 


45 


THE ALPS COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 

and more than two hundred voters followed in pro- 
cession. All opposition was hissed down, a liberal 
board of education chosen, and a capacious building 
erected. The school doubled in numbers, but still 
the advanced scholars went to the Alps Collegiate 
Institute, partly because it was under the Regents, 
and partly because it had a longer name than Nor- 
way Union Free School. 

Professor Cobb, the principal, determined to get 
his school put under the Regents. To accomplish 
this he must secure a hundred dollars’ worth of 
library books, and as much in apparatus. An ex- 
member of Congress presented the school with fifty 
volumes of the Congressional Record, which, esti- 
mated at ten dollars a volume, made a fair showing. 
These were eked out by various donations of miscel- 
laneous solid but unreadable books, and the catalogue 
sent to Albany was quite a pretentious document. 

The apparatus gave them more trouble, till Pro- 
fessor Cobb learned that one of the little academies 
in the county had been sold for a carriage-shop, and 
had some apparatus for sale. When he reached the 
place the apparatus had already been stored away in 
the attic of the purchaser. He bought the entire 
lot for two hundred dollars, it being arranged that 
the seller should immediately contribute one hundred 
and ninety of it to the Norway Union School. Pro- 
fessor Cobb picked out the pieces, compared them 
with the pictures in the catalogue of a Philadelphia 


46 


RODERICK HOME 


manufacturer, and made out a list of apparatus amount- 
ing to something over a thousand dollars. 

The Regents now received the school under their 
visitation, with the title of The Norway Free High 
School and College Preparatory Institution — “ Nine- 
teen syllables, by thunder,” remarked an enthusiastic 
member of the board, “and the Alps Collegiate In- 
st itoot hain’t got but nine.” 

Professor Cobb spent his Saturdays and vacations 
in scouring the country round about for “foreign 
pupils”, as scholars from outside the district were 
called. The county papers were dotted with para- 
graphs relating to the new school. After a year or 
two it was announced that Norway had nearly as large 
a Regents’ appropriation as Chimborazo ; the next 
year it had a larger appropriation ; the next year it 
stood first in the whole region. Thereafter Chim- 
borazo fell, and the Norway Free High School and 
College Preparatory Institution became by universal 
acknowledgment the academy of the county. In the 
meantime Chimborazo dropped lower and lower, till 
it fell into the hands of a succession of broken-down 
clergymen, inefficient teachers, and greedy boarding- 
house keepers. 

“ They didn’t start it at all this fall,” concluded the 
landlord, as he shovelled down a final knifeful of cold 
baked beans ; “ there’s no money in it. Th’ last man 
couldn’t pay his grocery bills, and his wife’s trunks 
were levied on by the sheriff, just as she was goin’ to 


THE Alps COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 47 

take the train. He didn’t set no such table as this, 
neither,” continued mine host, glancing over the long, 
dirty cloth with honest pride. “ Look at the variety : 
milk-crackers, soda-crackers, ister-crackers, ginger- 
snaps, seed-cakes, and fried doughnuts, besides bread, 
biscuit, and three kinds o’ meat. That’s what I call 
livin’. Why, I took supper once at Sarrytogy, paid 
a doll’r ’n’ a half fur it, an’ not a durned thing on the 
table. I don’t b’lieve in ord’rin’ things from a bill o’ 
fare. Give me a sight o’ what I’m going to have, to 
raise m’ appetite, I say.” 

Roderick did not care to discuss this point of hotel 
management, and left the table disgusted equally with 
the landlord, his breakfast, and his account of the Alps 
Collegiate Institute. 

Learning that the stage for Chimborazo would not 
leave before nine o’clock, Roderick determined to 
walk over there. The road lay through a country 
delightful to any eye, and especially to Roderick’s, 
long accustomed to the stony hillsides of Connecticut. 
The surface was slightly rolling, but even the hills 
were cultivated upon sides and summit. The corn 
lay in sheaves, partly husked, in the fields once stud- 
ded with golden pumpkins ; the hop-poles were piled 
in tall cones ; through one or two tobacco sheds he 
could see the long shreds hung up to dry. The trees 
had shed their coats of many colors ; a brisk autumn 
breeze stirred the air ; the sun was cheerful and not 
yet too high ; flocks of snipes and ducks were wing- 


48 


RODERICK HUME 


ing their way southward ; wagons of produce were oh 
their way to the station. 

• The white steeples of Chimborazo had been in sight 
during most of the way, but as Roderick fairly entered 
the outskirts of the village he could hardly restrain a 
cry of delight. Through the village ran a street 
nearly a mile long, and some twenty rods wide. On 
each side was a double row of elms, under which the 
grass lay unmolested, save by an occasional pruning 
scythe. The houses were large, old-fashioned, and 
quaintly ugly ; but they were set well back, and sur- 
rounded by ample grass plots and orchards. The 
churches were as uncompromising as a Presbyterian 
sermon. They all had stunted, painted steeples ; they 
were all of a painful white, relieved only by long par- 
allelograms of green blinds, and a streak of rickety 
black lightning-rod ; they all had high wooden stoops 
in front, and conspicuous horse-sheds in the rear. 
Roderick felt confident that they all had cushionless 
rectangular seats, melodeon-led choruses, and fifty- 
minute discourses. He stepped into what seemed to 
be the largest store. It had a post-office in one corner, 
and dealt in everything the country heart could wish 
for, from flour and herring, books and jewellery, to 
corsets for women, and harnesses for mules. 

Approaching a clerk who was bartering green calico 
for butter, Roderick inquired where Mr. Hogoboom 
lived. He followed the directions given, and found 
himself before a somewhat pretentious house. Thq 


TkE Alps COllEGlATE /JVSPlTt/TE 4 ^ 


front fence was of iron ; the yard was divided up into 
a Euclid of flower-beds ; an iron watch-dog growled 
fiercely from beside the steps, and three or four hor- 
rible Chinese idols were laid against the wall upon the 
front piazza. Entering, he found the carpets of old 
but costly tapestry. The piano had pearl keys, and 
was richly inlaid, but Roderick shuddered at the 
thought of what sounds it would produce. The 
books upon the centre-table were bound in full mo- 
rocco and heavily gilt, but they were “ The Lady’s 
Gift ”, “ The Ladies’ Repository ”, and other annuals 
of a by-gone generation. When Mr. Hogoboom en- 
tered the room, he greeted Roderick with a stiff but 
dignified courtesy. He was a little man, dressed in 
rusty black, and with a tired look. He read Roder- 
ick’s letter of introduction, asked him a few questions, 
mentally decided that it was worth while to make the 
effort necessary to show him about, and went out to 
hunt up the keys. He brought back a bunch so large 
that he carried it in a little basket. Roderick after- 
wards learned that these were the keys to a dozen or 
more buildings in town, which Mr. Hogoboom owned, 
but was unable to rent. 

The grounds of the Alps Collegiate Institute occu- 
pied an entire square, covered with trees among which 
evergreens predominated, and laid out with gravel 
walks through a turf which years of neglect had not 
shorn of its beauty. The building was huge and 
homely. The brick front was relieved by double win- 


RODERICK HUME 


clows three stories high, cased and divided by brown- 
painted woodwork, now blistered and cracked, and 
darkened by the draggled remnants of painted curtains. 
The doors were by far too small and too light, remind- 
ing one of the entrance to a conical mouse-trap. When 
the eye had made its way past these details to the top 
of the building, it rested upon an immense cupola, 
surmounted by a globe of unpainted and rusty tin. 
Roderick noticed that the eave-spouts were unjointed, 
that the building had sunk a little to one side, that 
there was a slight bulge in the brick, and symptoms 
of cracking in the mortar. The building was safe 
enough for the present, but it had been built rather 
by square than by cubic measure. 

Selecting a large key from the bunch, Mr. Hogo- 
boom opened one of the three doors, and led the way 
into a dark, mouldy entry. On one side was the re- 
ception-room, in which were the relics of a rag car- 
pet and a few articles of cheap furniture. On the 
opposite side was a room for primary pupils — damp, 
unwholesome, repulsive. 

“ Was there any school in this room last year } ” 
asked Roderick, unable to repress a shudder. 

“Yes; Professor Crossman had a few primary 
scholars. His daughter was the teacher.” 

“ How did she get the mouldiness out } ” 

“ Oh, that is nothing. The room has been shut 
up, but will be dry and airy as soon as the windows 
are opened.” 


THE ALPS collegiate IH^TLTUTE 

“ Can the sun get in here ? ” 

“ N-o. It’s too shady for the lower rooms. But 
suppose we go up-stairs ” 

“Just a moment, please. Where is your cistern 

“ Under the north wing.” 

“ Is there no water under this floor } ” 

“Y-es, there is an old cistern here, but we don’t 
use it.” 

“ Is it dry } ” 

“ Probably not quite. The eaves do not empty 
into it ; but the walls were imperfect, and there is 
some little drainage.” 

“ Say from the outhouses and stables about here.?” 

“ Oh, no, not particularly. Of course the country 
is level hereabouts, and the soil is sandy ; but what 
flows in here is mostly rain-water. Besides, this 
room isn’t used much. You don’t need to have a 
primary department. Let’s go up-stairs.” 

On the second floor Roderick found an assembly- 
room seated with modern furniture, a dozen small 
recitation-rooms, and two or three piano-rooms, each 
nearly filled by the ghost of a cheap piano. On the 
third and fourth floors were the sleeping-rooms, — 
on the north end for young men, and on the south 
for young women, — separated by a heavy brick wall, 
broken in each entry by a thick door with a strong 
lock. 

They passed through the south end first. The 
rooms could be made habitable by paint, paper, and 


5 ^ 


RODEIUCK HUME 


upholstery, but everything was musty, and the bed- 
clothes were odorous. On the boys’ side ruin was 
rampant. Doors and sashes were broken, an entire 
square yard of plastering was rare, hardly a vestige 
of chairs or tables remained, and the rope bedsteads 
gave evidence of populous citizenship in the livelier 
nights of yore. 

Then they descended to the kitchen. Here were 
huge ranges, enormous stove furniture, tables long 
enough to feed a regiment. 

“ How many boarders had Professor Crossman ^ ” 
asked Roderick. 

“ Ten, including his family.” 

“ And how many children of his own had he ” 

“ Six.” 

Roderick was reminded of the gourmand who 
always liked to have two at the table on Thanks- 
giving Day, — himself and the turkey. 

Mr. Hogoboom had displayed the building as 
favorably as possible, insisting that its present con- 
dition was the result of a single year of mismanage- 
ment, and that a little repairing with a good deal of 
future care would transform it into one of the most 
comfortable, as well as one of the most capacious, in 
the country. 

“ Who is to do this repairing ” asked Roderick. 

“ Why you, of course, if you take the building 
without rent.” 

“ It would require a larger outlay than I am ready 
to make.” 


THE ALPS COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 


53 


“ Not so much as you think. Two hundred dol- 
lars would put the Institute in good shape — at least 
enough of it for present use.” 

“We will talk of that later,” said Roderick. 
“ Meantime suppose you introduce me to some of 
your prominent citizens ; I want to see what sort of 
local support I can depend upon.” 

Mr. Hogoboom was not accustomed to follow in 
this way a programme laid out by somebody else, 
especially by a young man without a thousand dollars 
in the world. But while he half resented Roderick’s 
peremptory manner, he half admired it, as betoken- 
ing an energy and confidence likely to succeed. 

He took Roderick to two clergymen, a judge, the 
postmaster, and the landlord of the largest hotel, all 
of whom promised at once to assist in resuscitating 
the school. As they left the landlord, Mr. Hogo- 
boom said to Roderick : — 

“ There, you see how our public men feel.” 

“ I see how four or five of them feel,” said Rod- 
erick. “ But there must be another clergyman or 
two, and two or three leading lawyers, and some of 
these other storekeepers. I want to see what they 
say.” 

“ We haven’t time to call on everybody,” said Mr. 
Hogoboom, rather disconcerted. “ 1 hardly feel as 
if I could give more time to it.” 

“ Then, if you will tell me where to find some of 
them, I will hunt them up myself,” said Roderick 


54 


RODERICK HUME 


Mr. Hogoboom could not plausibly decline this, 
and he left Roderick with the warning that he would 
find some local dissatisfaction with past management, 
and some disinclination to hope for anything better ; 
all of which would disappear after a term or two. 

Roderick was therefore prepared for something of 
what he heard from those gentlemen. The Alps 
Collegiate Institute, they said, had been built by a 
stock company, few of the shareholders expecting 
dividends, but all of them willing to contribute some- 
thing to establish a school of high grade. Fifty 
thousand dollars had been raised, the charter secured, 
the ground bought, and the building erected. Mr. 
Hogoboom held only a thousand dollars of the stock ; 
but as few others held as much, most of it being 
taken by hundreds, he had been from the first an 
influential trustee. The school started well. An 
able principal was secured, every room was occupied, 
and two thousand dollars surplus remained at the end 
of the year. 

An acrimonious discussion ensued over the dis- 
posal of this money. Nobody asked that it be dis- 
tributed in dividends ; for all were proud of the school, 
and recognized its effect upon the tone and prosper- 
ity of the village. But most of the trustees thought 
this surplus should be the nucleus of a sinking-fund, 
as a sort of balance-wheel to carry the school over 
possibly unprofitable years in the future. Against 
fhis Mr, Hogoboom protested, insisting that it shot|]d 


THE ALPS COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 55 

be used to greatly enlarge the building, the rest of the 
expense being secured for the present by mortgage. 

“ If the school makes two thousand dollars the 
first year,” he argued, “ it will make four thousand 
the second.” Finally his advice prevailed ; the wings 
were built, and the building was mortgaged for ten 
thousand dollars. 

Corresponding changes had to be made in the re- 
maining expenses of the school. The faculty was in- 
creased, apparatus and books were purchased lavishly, 
advertisements were displayed in every newspaper in 
the State. Consequently, though the income was 
a little larger the second year than the first, there 
was no surplus ; in fact, it required close calculatioi\ 
to pay the interest upon the mortgage. 

Meanwhile the very success of the Institute injured 
it. A score of rivals sprang up, seven of them in 
Macedonia county alone. None of them were very 
strong, but they all retained students who would other- 
wise have come to Chimborazo. The pupils of the 
second year could all have been accommodated in , 
the original building, and the number grew smaller 
till there were fewer scholars than rooms. 

For twenty years the interest on the mortgage 
was regularly paid, but only by making up the defi- 
cit through subscription, the amount of which grew, 
larger every year. Finally the subscription wa?, no.t. 
large enough, and for two or three years the interest 
w^nt unpaid, Meanwhile the school had been run- 


56 


RODERICK HUME 


ning down. As soon as the school began to lose 
money, Mr. Hogoboom swung around into advocating 
the most miserly economy, and ground down the 
principal till no first-class man could be obtained. 
Discipline grew lax, the students became as obnox- 
ious as they had once been welcome, and the whole 
village rejoiced when the mortgage was foreclosed. 

The property was sold at auction. Mr. Hogoboom 
bought it in “ for the trustees ”, though it was well 
understood that he bought it with his own money 
and for himself. He paid ^7,000, thus getting for 
a total outlay of $8,000, property which cost $60,000, 
which paid no taxes, and which drew funds from the 
State whenever it was run as a private school. Yet 
he had thus far got no return for his money. No 
principal with whom he had made a bargain had been 
able to pay the bills incurred in running the school. 

“ On what terms do you think I could take the 
school and make a living from it 't ” asked Roderick 
of the last man he talked with, a sour-looking but 
shrewd and kind-hearted lawyer. - 

“Tell him he must put the building in good condi- 
tion, specify the repairs to be made, and insist that 
they be made to your satisfaction. Then get a lease 
for five years, free of rent and insurance, with privi- 
lege of renewal for five years more at a thousand 
dollars a year. On these terms I believe you have 
energy and enterprise enough to succeed. If you do 
succeed, you will accomplish a great work for yourself 


THE ALPS COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE 


57 


and for us. Come to me to draw the papers. I will 
see that your rights are secured, and it shall cost you 
nothing,” he concluded. 

Roderick went at once to Mr. Hogoboom’s house 
and proposed these terms. Mr. Hogoboom had ex- 
pected no less, and had decided that he wanted Rod- 
erick to have the school. He therefore acceded to 
the proposal, kept Roderick to dinner, and went with 
him to the Institute to- agree as to what were neces- 
sary repairs. Roderick was not extravagant in his 
demands, and there was no disagreement till he pro- 
posed that the cistern under the primary room be 
filled up and the floor renewed. Against this Mr. 
Hogoboom protested. It would cost two hundred 
dollars, and was unnecessary, he said. Roderick per- 
sisted. He had heard during the morning of several 
cases of typhoid fever in the school, and it was with 
him a matter of conscience to prevent their recur- 
rence. Finally he became impatient at Mr. Hogo- 
boom’s utter ignoring of responsibility for the health 
of scholars who occupied a building he owned. 

“ Then you refuse to fill the cistern } ” he said. 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Hogoboom, thinking he was 
to gain the point, and save two hundred dollars. 

“ Then I decline any further negotiations,” said 
Roderick, in a tone he seldom used, but which re- 
vealed a strong will and a fixed determination. 

Mr. Hogoboom saw that he had blundered, and 
hastened to say that h^ would consider the matter 


58 


RODERICK HUME 


more fully. This Roderick declined. In spite of 
expostulation and entreaty, he declared that he had 
resolved not to undertake the school at all, bade him 
adieu, and took the stage for Norway. 

Mr. Hogoboom fumed for a week, and cursed the 
cistern for the loss of a rare opportunity. Not alto- 
gether justly. The determination to have nothing to 
do with Mr. Hogoboom did not originate in that gen- 
tleman’s obstinacy upon this particular topic. The 
conviction that Mr. Hogoboom was not a pleasant 
person to have dealings with had been growing upon 
Roderick from the moment of introduction, and when 
the cistern called Minerva forth she was armed and 
equipped. If a feather breaks the camel’s back, be 
sure the back was overloaded. 


THE NORWAY FREE HIGH SCHOOL 


59 


CHAPTER V. 

THE NORWAY FREE HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 
PREPARATORY INSTITUTION 

HE Stage connected with a western train, and 



1 Roderick had several hours to spare in Norway. 
Thinking he could not better occupy his time than 
in visiting the public school, he made his way up 
the sandy hillside on which that institution had been 
located. 

Knocking at the first door that led from the hall 
he inquired for the principal. Evidently visitors 
were frequent and welcome ; for the little girl who 
answered his summons politely invited him to ac- 
company her, and led him up two pairs of long and 
steep stairs to the main room. 

“ That is Professor Cobb at the desk,” she said. 

Professor Cobb came forward at once and greeted 
Roderick cordially. He was a fine-looking man, six 
feet tall, rather heavily built, and dressed loudly but 
neatly. When he had learned Roderick’s name and 
the business which had called him so far away from 
the city, he declared himself happy and eager to 
ghow him about, Ho took him first into the tower^ 


6o 


RODERICK HUME 


and pointed out landmarks in nine different coun- 
ties, adding that the Alps Collegiate Institute never 
claimed to show but seven. Then he led him down 
all the stairs into the basement, calling attention to 
the furnaces, which worked very well when aided 
by a stove in each room, and to the closets, which 
were elegantly fitted up, but not used because of 
some trouble with the water-works. Then he un- 
locked the door of the apparatus-room, which was 
profuse and handsomely arranged, but with hardly a 
complete piece in the collection. On inquiry, Rod- 
erick learned that the apparatus was never used, but 
had been purchased because the Regents required it. 

Then Professor Cobb led the way through the 
departments. On each floor were four rooms con- 
nected by glass doors which could be pushed back, 
thus throwing the four rooms into one. Professor 
Cobb had this change made upon each floor as they 
passed through, and put the children through exer- 
cises in singing and gymnastics. The discipline was 
conspicuous. Every eye of every child rested upon 
Professor Cobb. If a mistake was made. Professor 
Cobb snapped his Angers with a report like a popgun, 
and not only the offender, but the dozen children 
nearest the offender, nervously jumped. 

The teachers were under similar constraint, merely 
standing like older pupils, while Professor Cobb gave 
all the orders. Roderick was introduced to none of 
them. 


THE NORWAY FREE HIGH SCHOOL 6 1 

When they regained the high schoolroom, Pro- 
fessor Cobb proposed to stop all the exercises, and 
have the five hundred children march by the desk, a 
feat in which they were well practised. Roderick 
demurred, saying that he would much prefer to hear 
one or two recitations. When Professor Cobb urged 
that this would be irksome to a stranger, Roderick 
replied that on the contrary nothing could be more 
pleasant and profitable. He expected to be engaged 
in similar work, and wanted all the help he could get 
from the example of a teacher so successful. 

Professor Cobb reluctantly submitted, and handed 
Roderick the programme of classes. 

“ Why, this is the time for advanced geometry,” 
said Roderick, comparing the hours. “ I have been 
keeping you from your class. Please call it at once.” 

Oh, Miss Lowe hears that class,” said Professor 
Cobb. “ I usually hear at this time a class in writ- 
ing made up of those that require particular atten- 
tion. But the period is nearly expired, and it is 
hardly worth while to call a class before the next.” 

“ Oh, very well, I see the recitations for that 
hour are in arithmetic and in Virgil. I think I will 
stay with you and hear the Latin.” 

“ Well, the fact is,” said Professor Cobb uneasily, 
“ Miss Lowe takes the Latin classes. I find the 
elementary branches so much neglected that I have 
to give them my whole time, in order to make firm 
the foundation stones of knowledge — the foundation 


62 


kodericK^ iiOM’E 


stones of knowledge, sir,” he repeated, helped back 
to dignity by the sonorousness of the phrase. 

Perhaps the phrase was too sonorous, for it deter- 
mined Roderick to stay and see some of this fixing 
of foundation stones. In spite of hints, and almost 
of command, he persisted in remaining to witness 
Professor Cobb’s work as a teacher. 

Professor Cobb’s plan was very simple. There 
were some forty in the class, and all of them were 
sent to the board, thus lining the room. The one 
in the north-east corner was given the first problem, 
the one nearest to him the next, and so on. Each 
worked out the one given, compared his answer with 
that printed in the back part of the book, and if the 
two corresponded, raised his hand, and was given 
another problem. If the two did not correspond, the 
pupil tried to find out where the mistake was — or 
rather how to so alter his work that his answer 
should agree with the key. 

Professor Cobb passed about from one to another, 
helping and correcting. At the close of half an 
hour he tapped the bell, gave the class four pages 
more for next time, and sent them to their seats. 

“ Do you always conduct recitations in this way ? ” 
asked Roderick, somewhat startled, but supposing 
Professor Cobb must have some good reason for 
putting the foundation stones so loosely together. 

“ Yes, usually. Th^ class is so large that this is 
the only way to get much work out of them.” 


THE NORWAY FREE HIGH SCHOOL 63 


“And does this prepare them for the Regents’ 
examinations ? 

“ Not exactly ; they recite one or two terms to 
Miss Lowe before they try.” 

Further questions were prevented by a tap of the 
bell for closing school. Professor Cobb was himself 
again as he gave the signals for putting away the 
books, rising simultaneously, and marching circui- 
tously out. 

But when the pupils were gone, Roderick began to 
question. 

“ How many grades were there in the school ? ” 

Professor Cobb did not know exactly. Ten or a 
dozen, he should think ; Miss Lowe would know. 

“ Did they follow the object system of teaching in 
the lower rooms ? ” 

That was according to the .taste of the teacher. 
Professor Cobb did not interfere with their methods 
if the results were satisfactory. 

“ Had kindergartening ever been tried at all ? ” 

Professor Cobb was evidently puzzled, but replied 
at a venture that considerable attention was given to 
ivies and window-flowers, but that it did not seem 
practicable to have any out-door gardening about the 
grounds. 

Then Roderick asked to see the registers of atten- 
dance. These were models of neatness and ingenuity, 
a complete record being kept of every child from his 
entrance into the school. Roderick was glad to be 


64 RODERICK HUME 

able to give an honest compliment, and he gave it 
heartily. 

“ I have heard it said that teachers were always 
wretched penmen,” he remarked, “ but your hand- 
writing is like cop'perplate.” 

“ Oh ! that isn’t my writing,” said Professor Cobb. 
“ I have no time for such details. All that work I 
leave to Miss Lowe.” 

“By the way, I should like to see Miss Lowe,” 
said Roderick ; “ she must be a paragon.” 

“Yes, she does very well under proper direction,” 
said Professor Cobb ; “ but she has gone home, and I 
suppose we must be going, as the janitor is waiting to 
sweep out.” 

At this Roderick instinctively turned to a man in 
rusty clothes, with sleepy-looking eyes, who had been 
sitting on the platform, and listening to Roderick’s 
questions and the replies they had elicited. 

“ Undoubtedly he is the janitor,” said Roderick to 
himself. 

At this moment the supposed janitor came forward 
and was introduced to Roderick as Mr. Dormouse, a 
member of the board of education. He asked Roder- 
ick a good many questions, contrived to get him away 
from Professor Cobb, and invited him to walk down 
to his store. This was in a rickety old frame build- 
ing, apparently unoccupied except in what seemed to 
be a sort of a joiner’s shop, with a few coffins stand- 
ing about, and one or two workmen mending furniture. 


THE NORWAY FREE HIGH SCHOOL 6^ 

Mr. Dormouse handed Roderick a dilapidated chair, 
and sat down upon a carpenter’s horse. Looking from 
behind his sleepy little eyes, he suddenly asked, — 
What do you think of our school ? ” 

Roderick desired to be as complimentary as possible, 
and mentioned several excellent features. 

Mr. Dormouse got up, looked at the order-book, 
picked out a pine coffin, took down some cheap muslin 
and some silver-headed tacks, began to line the coffin, 
and after driving one tack took a half-dozen others out 
of his mouth long enough to ask, — 

What do you think of Professor Cobb as a 
teacher ? ” 

Roderick replied that Professor Cobb seemed to be 
energetic, a good disciplinarian, and very polite. 

The sleepy little eyes looked around a moment, a 
few more tacks were driven, and again the question 
came, — 

“ Should you teach an arithmetic class as Professor 
Cobb did .? ” 

Roderick was obliged to confess that he did not 
think he should, qualifying the statement by saying 
that he had had so much less experience than Pro- 
fessor Cobb, that probably he did not understand all 
that gentleman’s reasons for teaching after that 
method. 

Mr. Dormouse now selected some narrow braid for 
the edge of the lining, began to tack it, and then 
asked, — 


66 


RODERICK HUME 


“ Would you take the principalship of this school 
at fifteen hundred dollars a year ? ” 

“ Most certainly, if it was vacant,” replied Roderick. 
“ But does Professor Cobb think of leaving ” 

“ It is being thought of for him,” was the reply. 
Mr. Dormouse then explained that there was a 
sharp division of feeling upon the board. P'our 
thought Professor Cobb was the most capable teacher 
in the State. Four thought that he had held his 
position as long as he could with profit to himself or 
the school. The ninth man had wavered, but was 
now convinced that Professor Cobb had better go ; 
and it was pretty well understood that Professor 
Cobb would resign after the close of the present 
term, two weeks hence. That would leave a vacancy, 
and Mr. Dormouse said in his moderate way that when 
that occurred he thought it might perhaps be well for 
Roderick to become a candidate. 

Roderick promised to consider the matter, gave Mr. 
Dormouse his address, and took the train to New 
York, hardly expecting to see Norway again, but glad 
that he had visited its public school. 


2 A^T^:KVlP:iVnVG A I^dAkD of FDUCAT/OA' 67 


CHAPTER VI. 

RODERICK INTERVIEWS A BOARD OF EDUCATION 

AA/ITHIN a week Roderick received a letter from 
V V Mr. Dormouse, saying that Professor Cobb 
had resigned his position, and taken the Alps Colle- 
giate Institute upon a five years’ lease. The vacancy 
was now to be filled, and Roderick was invited to 
apply in person. He took the night train, telegraph- 
ing Mr. Dormouse to expect him the next morning. 

When he called at the shop of the wily undertaker, 
he found him in conversation with a short, stubbed 
old gentleman, with white beard, rosy face, and 
querulous mouth. 

Here he comes now,” said Mr. Dormouse, as 
Roderick entered. “ Mr. Hume, this is ’Squire Mar- 
vin, president of our board.” 

“ So you’ve come to take Professor Cobb’s place,” 
said Mr. Marvin. 

“ I have come to be a candidate for the place he 
has left vacant,” replied Roderick. 

“ Oh ! well, well, I don’t know. We’ve got a 
pretty fair school, and I believe in letting well enough 
alone. May be Professor Cobb isn’t much of a 
scholar, but my niece — that’s Miss Lowe, the pre- 


RODERICK HUM)> 


6S 

ceptress — makes up for that. However, I've agreed 
to vote for a new man, and Mr. Dormouse here in- 
sists that we sha’n’t be likely to do much better than 
take you.” 

This was not an enthusiastic welcome ; but Mr. 
Dormouse said, as he walked out with Roderick to 
call on the other members of the board, — 

“You are old enough to know that most people 
talk more generously than they act. Squire Marvin 
is one of the kind who act more generously than they 
talk. You can count on his vote and on his support 
till you have had a fair trial. He makes up his mind 
slowly, but if you once get his personal good-will he 
will find fault with you in prosperity and stand by 
you in trouble. This is a different kind of a man,” 
he continued, as he turned the knob of an entry-door 
labelled, — 

E. DOMITE, 

ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. 

Mr. Domite was a flabby man, fifty years old, who 
hardly ever had anything to do, but scraped a scanty 
living out of a small inheritance. He had spent a 
term or two at Union College, and somehow got from 
it an honorary A.M. He was narrow and bigoted ; 
his conceit strutted most over his classical education. 

“ You are a college graduate, I believe, sir,” he 
said to Roderick. “Aren’t you very fond of Virgil V' 

“ I think I have derived some gratification from 
it,” said Roderick, rather surprised; “but most of 


/A^TJ</cr//ClF/jVG A BOARD OF EDUCATION- 69 

the beautiful passages are unpleasantly loaded down 
in my memory with declensions and rules of syntax.” 

“I enjoy Virgil very much,” the attorney con- 
tinued. “ Do you remember that line : — 

“ ‘ Arma virumque cano qui primus ab oris ’ ? ” ^ 

Roderick replied that he believed he did occasion- 
ally recall it, having fitted for college a score or so of 
private pupils. 

“ I take great pleasure in my Latin,” continued 
Mr. Domite ; “ I am the only classical scholar on the 
board. I think the scholars of our country ought to 
take a more prominent part in active life. I hope 
you will do all you can to encourage among the 
pupils here an appetite for the classic tongues.” 

Roderick replied that, if elected, his taste and 
habits would certainly prompt him to use his efforts 
in that direction ; whereupon Mr. Domite promised 
him his help, and wished him good-morning. 

On the same floor was the office of Darius Angell, 
Esq., another attorney, and the clerk of the board. 
He was a coarsely dressed man, with a little body, 
and a big pugnacious head. Up to the time he 
opened his mouth, nobody could tell which side of a 
question he would take ; it is doubtful whether he 
usually knew himself ; but as soon as he had taken 
it, he believed that everybody on the other side was 
a knave and a fool, and proceeded to proclaim so, 
more or less diregtl^, but always in a loud, rasping 


70 


RODERICK HUME 


voice, and with most offensive gestures. Withal 
there was about him a certain assumption of dignity, 
wofully at variance with . his appearance and habit of 
speech. So ridiculous was his manner that disinter- 
ested persons found him rather amusing ; but he was 
not a pleasant person to deal with. 

When Mr. Dormouse introduced Roderick, Mr. 
Angell looked up with a jerk of his head and 
asked, — 

“ How are you on your muscle.^ ” 

“ Very weak,” replied Roderick, laughing ; “ I 

never fought but once. I believe I was eight years 
old then, and I might have whipped perhaps ; but 
somehow or other my nose got to bleeding, and I 
wanted to go home and wash it.” 

“ Then you are a coward, are you } ” 

“ An utter coward.” 

“You’ll never do for this school.” 

“ Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I am physically 
a coward ; but to compensate, nature ha:j given me 
a knack of keeping out of danger. Besides, I have 
some pride and some determination ; and if I were 
put where I could not avoid trouble, I should be apt 
to see it through. You have heard of the soldier 
reproached on the field of battle for being scared. 
‘ Yes,’ he said, ‘ I am scared ; and if you were half as 
scared as I am, you would run away.’ I don’t think 
I should run away unless things were in very bad 
shape.” 


L\TER VIE WING A BOARD OF ED UCA TION y I 

“Well, you can’t run this school,” said Mr. Angell 
decisively. “We’ve got boys that respect nothing 
but brute force, spoiling for a fight. You can’t do 
anything here with palaver. It’s perfectly damned 
futile.” 

This was Mr. Angell’s favorite expression : “ Puf- 
fickly dam few-tile,” he pronounced it ; and when he 
had said it there was no further use for argument. 
So Mr. Dormouse took Roderick to the office of a 
lumber-yard near by, and introduced him to Squire 
Coy. 

Squire Coy was rather below the medium height, 
had a bilious face, and was dressed in rusty but pro- 
fessional black. He had studied law, and still prac- 
tised it occasionally. He had made some money in 
business, some in speculation, some by a second mar- 
riage. He might have made a great deal more ex- 
cept for a mental habit of thinking the longest way 
around was the shortest way home. His hobby was 
diplomacy, which he supposed to consist in doing 
things crookedly. 

“ H’m, h’m,” he coughed, as he scrutinized Rod- 
erick through eyes which he had trained to look as if 
they were deep set, “ we must move cautiously in this 
matter. Professor Cobb is very popular here, and 
has many influential friends. I don’t know whether 
the people will be satisfied to have us hire a stranger. 
There is Captain Stone, who lives right here in the 
place, and has a very talented wife teaching in the 


72 


RODERICK HUME 


school ; he has applied, and there is quite a sentiment 
in his favor.” 

“ I didn’t know that there was another applicant,” 
said Roderick, turning to Mr. Dormouse. 

“ Oh, yes,” replied that gentleman leisurely, “ there 
are some twenty applicants. The trouble is that, 
like this Captain Stone, they have no education or 
experience or character ; so they are not likely to 
be engaged.” 

“ Oh, well, well,” interrupted the Machiavelian 
hastily, “ I don’t suppose we shall elect Captain 
Stone, but we want to consider all aspects of the 
question carefully. Under existing circumstances, 
Mr. Hume, it will be a matter of delicate diplomacy 
to succeed in your position. The board is very 
evenly divided ; and though we may barely elect you, 
some of us will need to be treated very carefully and 
diplomatically. In the management of the school 
you will have to know who the parents of the chil- 
dren are, and how they stand on this question, and 
be careful to placate those that are not on our 
jide.” 

“Then I may as well withdraw my application at 
once,” interrupted Roderick. “ You are describing a 
course of action which is, more than any other, simply 
impossible with me. If I come here, I must come, 
not as on ‘ your sidQ ’ or ‘ the other side ’, but as 
a teacher, hired to manage your school, because a 
majority of the board supposes me fit to do it, I 


INTEI^VIEWhVG A BOARD OF EDUCATION- 73 

wish to be judged solely by what I accomplish, and 
when a majority of the board thinks I am not com- 
petent, I shall be ready to go.’' 

Mr. Coy, becoming uneasy during this declaration, 
had got his legs stretched out and his index finger 
ready to argue the matter from a psychological foun- 
dation ; but Mr. Dormouse took Roderick away, on 
the plea of wanting to catch Tom Baker before he 
left town. 

“ Tom Baker ” (noboby ever spoke of him as Mr. 
Baker) was the youngest son of the wealthiest man 
in Norway. He had been a pet child, and had 
grown up with smooth, fat, white hands, and an easy, 
deliberate manner, so unusual in Norway, that he 
was thought of rather as his father’s son than as 
himself a shrewd, generous, enterprising business- 
man. But everybody respected him, and everybody 
liked him. For three years he was a popular presi- 
dent of the village, and he had been a member of the 
board of education from the start. He never said 
much, he hardly ever interfered ; but he never cast a 
vote which subsequent events proved to have been 
on the wrong side. 

Mr. Dormouse found him just ready to drive his 
family over to Chimborazo. Mr. Baker paused with 
the reins in one hand while he shook Roderick’s with 
the other, looked the young man carefully over 
without seeming to do so, and remarked laughingly 
to Mr. Dormouse, — 


74 


RODERICK HUME 


“ He doesn’t weigh so much as Professor Cobb.” 

“ No, but he moves faster,” was the quick reply. 
“ We were looking to you to examine him a little.” 

“ I can do that in one question. Mr. Hume, what 
do you consider the first duty of the principal of a 
school } ” 

“To be boss,” replied Roderick promptly. 

Mr. Baker held out his hand once more and shook 
Roderick’s heartily. 

“You are my candidate,” said he, “and I want 
you to take dinner with us next Sunday.” 

Mrs. Baker ratified the invitation, and Roderick 
felt sure of pleasant acquaintances in Norway. 

“ One member of our board is out of town,” said 
Mr. Dormouse, as they walked back to the busy part 
of the village ; “but he always goes with Squire Coy, 
and we are sure of his vote. I shall have to leave 
you here a few minutes ; ” and he introduced Roder- 
ick to Mr. Abrahams, an insurance agent. 

Mr. Abrahams was a heavily built man, who trod 
like an elephant, his sides swaying with every step. 
His face was sensual, and his eyes betokened low 
cunning. When he saw the door closed behind Mr. 
Dormouse, he leaned back, looked at Roderick sol- 
emnly, and asked in unctuous tones, — 

“ Do you love the Lord Jesus Christ with all your 
heart, and with all your mind, and with all your soul, 
and with all your strength } ” 

“ No, sir,” replied Roderick. 


INTERVIEWING A BOARD OF EDUCATION 75 


Mr. Al)rahams was taken aback. Shaking his 
head mournfully, he said, — 

“ Then I cannot consider you a suitable principal 
for this school.” 

“Very well, sir,” said Roderick, and turned to go. 
Like most young people of the present age, Rod- 
erick Hume lacked veneration for the experience and 
wisdom of older men ; but he regarded sacred things 
with a reverence which many would deem supersti- 
tious. He could not understand the patronizing fa- 
miliarity with which so many good men speak of the 
Deity, or the indifference with which they refer in 
public to their soul experience. It seemed to him 
sacrilege thus to voluntarily cast aside the veil of 
what is to each man his Holy of Holies. As for 
those who deem it their duty to approach an utter 
stranger, and seek to wrest from him what Roderick 
thought must be to any thoughtful man a secret be- 
tween himself and his God, Roderick did not care to 
question their motives, — that was their secret with 
God, — but he felt personally shocked and repelled. 
So he did not attempt to explain his abrupt reply, 
and could willingly have left Mr. Abrahams to draw 
any inferences he chose. But this was not at all sat- 
isfactory to Mr. Abrahams, who hastened to say, — 

“ But I do not understand this, Mr. Hume ; I 
thought you were a church-member } ” 

“ So I am, sir.” 

“ Then why do you say you do not love the Lord ? ” 


76 


RODERICK HUME 


“ I did not say so, sir. You asked if I loved him 
with all my heart and soul and mind and strength. 
That question admits of but one answer by any mor- 
tal man. If you were an intimate friend, I might 
possibly qualify my answer somewhat, but I cannot 
discuss my inner life with a stranger.” 

“ But surely we have the right to ask the man 
who wants to be principal of a school of five hundred 
children what his spiritual condition is.” 

Surely you have no right whatever. Even in the 
matter of morality you have the right to ask only 
evidence of good reputation ; you can ask no man to 
give proof of his character, even by his own mouth.” 

“ Do you mean to say that we have not the right 
to ask you if you are honest V' 

“ Certainly I mean to say so. In the first place, 
the question would be absurd, for only a liar can con- 
sistently say that he never lies. But beneath that 
objection is the broad principle, that a man’s charac- 
ter is his individual property. You may ask him 
what he has done ; never what he is.” 

“ Give me your hand,” said Mr. Abrahams with 
enthusiasm. “ I only wanted to see if you were good 
at argument, and I find you are a whole team, with 
a yellow dog under the wagon.” 

Roderick held out his hand reluctantly. Mr. 
Abrahams’ abrupt change of manner from sanctimo- 
niousness to the tone of the bar-room disgusted him. 
f<You see/’ said Mr Abrahams, am the only 


/XTl^A^y/ElV/JVG A BOARD OF EDUCATION 77 

man on the board who has had extended experience 
in school matters, so that the choice of teachers is 
practically intrusted to me. That was why Mr. Dor- 
mouse left you here ; and the board will vote just as 
I say. I think you are just what we want. By the 
way, have you ever insured your life ^ ” 

Roderick replied in the negative. 

“You had better take out a policy in the Guardian, 
large assets, liberal premiums, and forty per cent 
dividends. How old are you ” 

“Twenty-four, but ” — 

“All right, premium ^26.87 ; better make it two 
thousand for a start, $53.74,” continued Mr. Abra- 
hams, talking and writing rapidly ; “you can pay it 
easily ; I will guarantee your engagement by the 
board ; the matter is left to me ; give me the name 
of an intimate friend;” and Mr. Abrahams paused a 
moment. 

“ I should like to have you understand clearly,” 
said Roderick with deliberate distinctness, “ that I 
have no desire or intention to insure my life. When 
I want to do it, I will examine into the matter, and 
see what company I prefer to deal with.” 

There was no mistaking his tone, and Mr. Abra- 
hams laid aside the wasted application. 

“Well,” he said in a moan of abused confidence, 
“ I shall do what I can for you anyway, and I hope 
you will be elected. Are you a married man } ” he 
asked, changing his tone once more. 


RODERICK nllM}'. 


7S 


“ I am not,” replied Roderick. He did not care to 
use unnecessary words with this person. 

“ I think you ought to be,” said Mr. Abrahams with 
a leer; “dangerous place to put a lusty young bachelor. 
Ten school-ma’ams, all good-looking and gushing. 
Regular cock o’ the walk. I knew a fellow ” — 

“ Mr. Abrahams,’’ said Roderick, now thoroughly 
indignant, “ I do not know whether or not I shall 
come to Norway, but I can assure you that if I do 
come, I shall deem it a part of my duty to protect the 
reputations of my fellow-teachers ; and if ever I hear 
again such an insinuation as that from any man, I 
will treat him as I would if he said the words of my 
si.ster.” 

As Roderick said this, he instinctively stepped for- 
ward. Mr. Abrahams, though he was sixty pounds 
heavier, as instinctively jumped up from his chair' 
and got upon the other side of the table. 

It was some time before he recovered self-posses- 
sion, and it was with a sickly smile that he said he 
was only joking. Roderick replied, that he neither 
understood such jokes, nor permitted them in his 
presence, and turned once more to leave. Mr. Abra- 
hams reminded him that Mr. Dormouse had arranged 
to come back for him, and urged him to remain, 
apologizing profusely for being misunderstood, prom- 
ising his enthusiastic support, and professing joy 
that so high-principled though hasty a young man 
was to have charge of the Norway school. 


^-A^TEkVIElVJA'G A ^OAkD OF ILDUCATIOA'' 79 


“ By the way,” he added hastily, as he saw Mr. 
Dormouse approaching, “do you return to New 
York ” 

“Yes; I must go back to-night, whether I am 
elected or not,” replied Roderick. 

“ Then you must have an Accident Insurance 
ticket,” said Mr. Abrahams, talking so fast that 
Roderick could not edge in a word ; “ very fortunate 
that I am agent ; only fifty cents for $3,000, and 
really insures safety. Here you are. No. 15,432, 
good from seven to-night till seven to-morrow 
night.” 

“ But I have already said that I wanted no insur- 
ance,” said Roderick. 

“ Life in.surance, long policy, I supposed you 
meant,” said Mr. Abrahams. “ I thought every 
prudent young man took these. Never mind ; the 
tickets are numbered consecutively, and I shall have 
to pay for it myself, but no matter.” And Mr. 
Abrahams sighed. 

Just then Mr. Dormouse entered. 

“ What do you think of our candidate t ” he asked 
of Mr. Abrahams. 

“ A very excellent and able young man,” replied 
Mr. Abrahams, in a tone of duty unrewarded and 
kindness unappreciated. “ We are remarkably fortu- 
nate in being able to get him, and I shall use all my 
influence for him.” 

“ And what do you think of Mr. Abrahams ? ” 


8o 


RODERICK HUME 


asked Mr. Dormouse of Roderick as they went down- 
stairs. 

“ So far as he has shown himself, I should pro- 
nounce him a liar, a lecher, and a thief,” replied 
Roderick. “ Whatever other characteristics he may 
have in abeyance I don’t know.” 

Mr. Dormouse chuckled inwardly, but to Roderick 
he said gravely, — 

“ I see that you rather pride yourself upon strong 
language, Mr. Hume. It is an effective weapon, but 
should never be flourished. We have only one more 
member to call on,” he added, as they entered a 
wholesale clothing establishment. 

Mr. Blarston, the proprietor, was one of the self- 
made men who, as has been well said, worship their 
creators. He was brutal, grasping, and passionate, 
but brimming with physical energy and rude mental 
force. 

“ So you are the fellow they have kicked out 
Professor Cobb to make way for,” he said, eying 
Roderick with a contempt he took no pains to dis- 
guise. “ Well, I shall go dead against you. P^our or 
five blanked fools on the board — and you are among 
’em, Jim Dormouse — have got a majority, and are 
going to try to run the school with new-fangled 
notions. Now, I know something about men, and I 
say you’re no more fit to take Professor Cobb’s place 
in that school than you are to cut out frock-coats in 
that there room. Now you know what I think of 
you, and it don’t cost you a cent.” 


iNTER VIE WING A B OARD OF ED OCA TION 8 1 


Indeed?” said Roderick quietly ; “it would cost 
you a good deal more than a cent to find out what I 
think of you.” 

“By blank, I’d have you know I’ve got a vote on 
that board,” burst out Mr. Blarston in a voice that 
could be heard a block away^ 

“ Oh, yes, I know you are the ninth part of the 
board,” returned Roderick, with provoking calmness ; 
“ but I don’t believe you are the ninth part of a man, 
if you are a tailor. Allow me to bid you good-morn- 
ing,” and with a low bow he walked out of the store, 
leaving Mr. Blarston speechless. 

“ I thought you called yourself a coward,” said 
Mr. Dormouse, as they passed down the street ; 
“you didn’t seem much scared by John Blarston’s 
insults.” 

“ Scared by his insults ! ” repeated Roderick ; 
“ why, such a man as that cannot insult me. A man 
so gratuitously rude merely proclaims that he knows 
no better. I confess I am ashamed of that fling at 
his occupation. By indulging in it I lowered myself 
to his level ; but the weapon came to my hand and 
I flourished it before I thought.” Roderick had al- 
ready adopted Mr. Dormouse’s metaphor. 

“ I wonder how you came to say that,” said Mr. 
Dormouse. “ If you had known John Blarston from 
a boy you couldn’t have done better. He admires 
pluck and wit above everything, and you have won 
him over to your side.” 


^2 


kOiDERICk HUME 


“ Do you really mean it ? ” asked Roderick, now 
thoroughly astonished. 

“Yes, sir; take my word for it, the vote will be 
six to three, instead of five to four, as we expected.” 

“ Who will be the three } ” 

“ Domite, Angell, and Abrahams.” 


'l^OD ERICK GETS A CQ C/A IK TED 


83 


-CHAPTER VII. 

RODERICK GETS ACQUAINTED 

HEN Roderick reached New York the next 



V V morning, he received a telegram from Mr. 
Dormouse announcing his election. As the term 
was to begin January 2, Roderick went to Middle- 
town to spend Christmas, and started for Norway 
the next day. When he called on Mr. Dormouse 
for the keys of the school-building, he surprised that 
worthy gentleman, who had not expected him till the 
opening of the term. Roderick explained that when 
the term began the scholars and teachers would be 
new to him, and he wanted at least to be familiar 
with the building, the text-books, and the course of 
study ; moreover, there might be little repairs needed 
before the school assembled. 

Mr. Dormouse was pleased at this evidence of en- 
terprise, and offered to accompany Roderick at once. 
They stopped at a house near the building, and called 
for the janitor, old Sam Sullivan. 

Sam was a character in his way. He was a small 
man, with hair so pale that it seemed to have been 


§4 


kODERlCK HV'ME 


bleached out, and a beard of the same shade always 
sprouting through his face. He was round-shoul- 
dered, and leaned so far forward when he walked, that 
each step seemed to arrest the tumble by which he 
was falling from the last. He had been janitor of 
the building ever since its erection, and considered 
himself the real engineer of the school. Teachers 
might come and teachers might go, but he went on 
forever. The furnaces he spoke of as tenderly as 
though they were children. A wind rising at night 
would awake him, as others are wakened by the cry- 
ing of a baby ; and he would jump up, dress, and run 
to adjust the drafts, though it were two o’clock of the 
iciest day in winter. Like most very watchful par- 
ents, he was disappointed in his children. The fur- 
naces were wayward, and would not heat the building. 
On three consecutive days of the last winter, Sam had 
stood by the door with an aching heart, and seen the 
pupils file out and go home because the thermometers 
would not expand above fifty degrees. Then wood 
stoves had been put into each room, and this disgrace 
to his furnaces Sam felt keenly. 

All this and more the garrulous janitor poured 
forth as they made their way into the building. But 
Roderick found dirt in unexplored corners, aged cob- 
webs on the recesses of entry windows, and dust 
everywhere. 

“ The first thing will be to have the building thor- 
oughly cleaned,” he said. 


RODERICK GETS ACQUAINTED 


85 


Sam stood aghast. 

“ Why, the floors was washed down to the very 
cellar on the Monday after school closed,” he said. 

“ Nevertheless,” said Roderick, “ the building is 
not clean. It might be clean for a granary or a sta- 
ble, but it is dirty for a schoolroom. In the first 
place,” he added, peering into one of the desks, 
“ these must be thoroughly brushed out. Look at 
that ; ” and as he withdrew his hand, he showed the 
tips of his fingers covered with a bluish dust, almost 
as thick and dense as the wadding of a shoddy 
overcoat. 

Sam was inclined to grumble, but Roderick was 
peremptory. Here were blackboards that needed 
new coats of slating, desks that must be screwed 
down tighter, a seat that needed mending, a window 
weight that had slipped off the piilley, a blind that 
must be placed so as to swing without scraping the 
window-sill. A fine set of wall-maps and another of 
physiological charts were found in the garret. Rod- 
erick brought them down and drew a plan for stand- 
ards, which Mr. Dormouse promised to have made at 
once. The covers of some of the reference books 
were loose. Roderick ordered them taken to the 
binders. Two cabinet organs were wheezy, and upon 
some tones mute. Roderick drew out the defective 
reeds and removed the substances which by slip- 
ping in had interrupted vibration ; and he showed 
Sam how to tighten the bellows. In short, he laid 


86 


RODERICK HUME 


out work enough to keep the janitor busy the 
rest of the week, and went to dinner hungry and 
happy. 

Mr. Dormouse had remained all the fornoon, say- 
ing little, but observing Roderick with great interest. 
When he left Roderick, he said, — 

You have hit me this morning harder than you 
did Sam Sullivan. The rules of our board refer all 
these things that you have been doing to the Sup- 
ply Committee, of which I am chairman. I thought 
matters were in pretty fair shape, but I see your 
eyes are sharper. Go ahead, and get anything you 
wish done. Just let me know what it is, and I will 
report to the board that I ordered it myself.” 

“ Why' I beg your pardon,” said Roderick. “ I 
did not know I was exceeding my authority. I sup- 
posed all these duties fell naturally upon the prin- 
cipal.” 

“ Well, no, not regularly, at least in this State,” 
said Mr. Dormouse. “No doubt they should, for he 
spends all his time in the schoolroom, and ought 
to know better than any one else what needs to be 
done, and how it needs to be done. But the regula- 
tions of most union schools so divide all responsi- 
bility among different committees, that theoretically 
the principal does little more than run a locomo- 
tive of approved pattern upon rails already laid. 
Practically, more or less of the construction of the 
locomotive and the laying out of the track is left 


RODERICK GETS ACQUAINTED 8 / 

to the principal, according to his mental strength, 
and the confidence which he can inspire in the 
board. If you succeed as well as I have reason 
to hope, you can have your own way in nearly every- 
thing ; but you will save friction by consulting our 
printed regulations, learning the names of the com- 
mittees, and consulting them before you take impor- 
tant action in the matters which the board puts 
under their direction. Fortunately, I am chairman 
of the Supply Committee, and Tom Baker of the 
Committee on Course of Study. The Committee on 
Teachers is headed by Squire Marvin. You will 
have to approach him with more care. If possible, 
always talk with him so as 'to get him to be the 
first to propose what you want done, and then allow 
yourself to be persuaded that he is right. Do you 
see } ” 

Roderick saw, and managed so well during the 
week that the board not only approved of the minor 
changes he made, but in a rare fit of enterprise 
supplanted the faulty furnaces by the finest steam- 
heating apparatus in the market. 

Roderick busied himself also with the course of 
study. He had learned by inquiry that the higher 
teachers were all out of town ; and as Professor Cobb 
had moved to Chimborazo, and was absorbed in his 
new enterprise, Roderick could think of no other way 
to learn the inner working of the school than by 
studying the registers. These had been carefully 


88 


RODERICK HUME 


kept, and were systematically filed away. He spent 
the entire afternoon upon them, till he knew the 
names of all the teachers, the studies of each room, 
the number of pages in each text-book gone over in 
a term, the frequency of reviews and examinations, 
and the results of the latter. Then he took down 
some of the examination papers from the neatly dock- 
eted files, and compared them with the marks given, 
and whistled. He carried home a large package of 
examination papers and spent the evening upon them, 
and went to bed astonished and disheartened. He 
found papers marked from eighty to one hundred per 
cent, in which there was not a single accurate answer, 
while the errors in grammar were exceeded only by 
those in spelling. He learned that there had been 
no supervision of examinations, each teacher having 
held her own upon questions given by herself. Thus 
Miss Lowe’s papers, which were the only respectable 
ones in the list, were few of them marked above 
seventy-five per cent., while Mrs. Stone’s, which were 
in every way disgraceful, were all of them marked 
above ninety. 

By Saturday night Roderick was tired ; but he had 
a fair knowledge of the work done in each depart- 
ment of the school, and a definite plan laid out for 
the coming term. He spent a pleasant Sunday at 
Tom Baker’s, and awoke on Monday morning thor- 
oughly ready for work. 

Puring Sunday he had become acquainted with 


RODERICK GETS ACQUAINTED 89 

one of his teachers. Tom Baker played the organ in 
the Baptist church, and took Roderick with him into 
the choir at evening service, offering to introduce 
him to the prettiest girl in the village, who was also 
the contralto soloist, and, climax, one of the teachers 
in the Free High School. 

Eunice Bell was pretty. Her face was a perfect 
oval, her complexion was tinted with rich olive, her 
eyes were large and brown and shy. She was taste- 
fully dressed, graceful in motion, and she sang like 
an angel, Roderick thought. Her voice was a pleas- 
ing alto, which in the solo she sang became so tear- 
fully tremulous, that Roderick felt sure her heart 
must be warmly sympathetic. 

Truly his lines were cast in pleasant places, he 
said to himself, and he was rather proud to offer his 
arm after benediction. 

There are many ways of taking a gentleman’s arm. 
There is the practical grip of the sister, who hitches 
because she can thus walk more comfortably. There 
is the masculine grip of the strong-minded, who 
thrusts a big long hand beneath one’s elbow in grim 
concession to a custom handed down from past ages 
when women were the weaker sex. There is the 
bashful grip, which isn’t a grip at all, but only a posi- 
tion of three or four little fingers, of which one must 
squeeze in one’s elbow occasionally to be assured. 
There is the confident grip of the betrothed young 
woman, who proclaims to everybody : Y es, that i^ 


90 


RODERICK HUME 


my hand under his arm in broad daylight. As you are 
remarking, I am engaged to this gentleman, and I’m 
not a bit ashamed of it.” There, again, is the gush- 
ing grip of the young woman who weighs a hundred 
and twenty-five pounds, and rests the odd twenty-five 
upon her feet, as she gazes into one’s face and hangs 
in rapture upon the words that drop from one’s 
lips. 

Miss Bell’s grip was not practical or masculine or 
bashful or confident or gushing. It was shy at first, 
but grew so firm and trusting in the course of a half- 
mile walk, that Roderick felt gratified at her discern- 
ment. In fact, he made the moonlight an excuse for 
prolonging the way, and he mentally pronounced her 
as charming in converse as she was in feature and 
attire. He failed to notice that her part of the con- 
versation was to listen and to echo him, with an oc- 
casional burst of flattering enthusiasm. Several other 
young men under like circumstances have been simi- 
larly obtuse. 

A great deal of wonder is wasted over the fact 
that brilliant men marry stupid women. The ex- 
planation is simple. Such attachments are usually 
formed in early life, when the man is callow, — 
sprouting, as it were, — full of crude notions and 
vague theories, eager, above all things, for a listener. 
He bores the ordinary young woman, who has no 
patience with such nonsense. The superior young 
woman bores him, because, in grasping for wheat 


RODERICK GETS ACQUAINTED 


9t 

among the chaff, she interrupts his flow of thought. 
But the stupid young woman listens to him hours at 
a time, till he thanks Heaven for adorning the earth 
with one soul capable of appreciating him. You all 
know the story of Madame de Stad and the deaf- 
mute. Many an Arthur Pendennis spouts Byron 
and Moore, passion and poetry, to a Fotheringay 
who cries : “ Ah, how exquisite ! repeat those lines 
again,” and thus gets leisure to turn her simple 
thoughts back to a dyed pair of gloves or the hashed 
mutton. Alas ! no world-wise Major swoops down 
upon Fairoaks ; the poor boy is left to his fate ; he 
marries in haste and repents at leisure. 

But this is a digression. Roderick is not yet in 
danger. He held Miss Bell’s hand a moment when 
he bade her good-night ; but it was because the hand 
was slender and soft and cool, and the tactual sensation 
was pleasant. His heart was in his work in the big 
brick schoolhouse yonder ; and before he was a block 
from Miss Bell he had forgotten her, and was deep 
in his plans for to-morrow. 

And she ? She tossed upon a sleepless pillow in 
the vain effort to decide whether to be married in 
white or in a brown travelling suit. She rather 
coveted the orange-flowers, but nothing became her 
so well as a certain delicate ashes-of-rose. She re- 
viewed every one of the scores of weddings she had 
attended, and recalled every detail of every bride’s 
attire, and all the remarks about them she had over- 


92 


RODERICK HUME 


heard. But in vain ; the clock struck three, and not 
yet had she reached a decision. She dozed some 
then, but she came down to breakfast looking tired,, 
with dark rings under her eyes. No wonder, poor 
thing ; the mental effort she had expended would 
have mastered a book of Euclid. 


RODERlCk FAIL 'S IFl blsClPLlFlE 


93 


CHAPTER VIII. 

RODERICK FAILS IN DISCIPLINE 

A S Roderick approached the school-building on 
Monday morning, he had to pass through a 
crowd of boys eager to get a glimpse of the new 
principal. To eyes accustomed to the burly form of 
Professor Cobb, Roderick’s compact figure seemed 
Lilliputian. Two or three of the larger boys offered 
confidently to bet they could lick him ; and the ven- 
turesome spirits vied in demonstrations of impu- 
dence. One of them smoked a cigar under the very 
-eaves of the building. Another pushed his compan- 
ion directly in Roderick’s pathway. A third planted 
himself in a tragic attitude, and declared : — 

“These are Clan-Alpine’s warriors true, 

And, stranger, I am Roderick Hume.” 

The boys were rather puzzled to find that Roderick 
neither interfered with nor ignored them. He looked 
straight at them, not smiling, not frowning, but 
simply observing. They felt, somehow, that they 
were being weighed in the balance by one who 
would not hesitate at his own time to proclaim in 
what he found them wanting. 


RODEKiCK H'OM'E 


^4 

Miss Bell met him at the door, took his hand ten- 
derly, accompanied him up-stairs, and with an air of 
proprietorship introduced him to the other teachers, 
who were gathered about the principal’s desk. 

Roderick had made himself so familiar with their 
reports, that he had no difficulty in rapidly assigning 
to each the work of the day. In general, he desired 
them to start^ their classes just where they had 
stopped the term before, and to continue as though 
no change of principals had occurred. 

“ What new text-books are you going to intro- 
duce ? ” asked Miss Laurie Simpkins. 

“ I shall introduce no new text-books till I have 
introduced myself,” replied Roderick ; “ I propose to 
become thoroughly familiar with the work you have 
been doing before I suggest any changes, and we 
need waste no time in getting started. Assign the 
lessons at once, please, and begin the recitations 
at the second period. Classify the new pupils 
as well as you can, and give them all something 
to do.” 

Nine o’clock was at hand, and Roderick directed 
Sam to ring the bell. The boys came up-stairs in all 
the noisy ways that the water comes down at Lodore, 
and shuffled to their seats like delegates to a Demo- 
cratic caucus. Roderick waited till every scholar 
was seated,- every pair of lips still, and every pair of 
boots motionless. When oppressive silence at length 
prevailed, Roderick rose quietly, looked over the 


RODERICK: FAILS IN DISCIPLINE 95 

room in a glance that took in every face, and said in 
a low but distinct tone, — 

“From what I have seen and heard this morning, 
I infer that you and I look differently upon the re- 
lation in which I stand to you. I heard one boy say 
that I didn’t weigh enough to run this school. [Here 
a smile swept over the room, but Roderick’s face 
was imperturbable.] I heard another boy recklessly 
offer to bet ten cents he could lick me. [The smile 
was now a snigger, but the boy in question looked 
scared.] A majority of you seem disposed to limit 
your improper conduct only by the probability of 
detection and punishment. In other words, you look 
upon me as a policeman, whose business it is to be 
on the lookout for mischief, and to detect and punish 
you if I can. 

“ Now, I am not sure there might not be some fun 
in this. It would be a sort of game. I like games, 
and always beat when I can. If I were to play this 
game with you, there might be a good deal of beat- 
ing ; some of it with a hickory ruler. [The smiling 
was now rather apprehensive, and in some instances 
defiant.] I can imagine how the game would be 
played. I start for school in the morning, and ap 
proach a half a dozen boys. As soon as I see them, 
I take it for granted they are concocting some villany, 
and hasten to surprise them. One of them gets a 
glimpse of me, and aspirates quickly : ‘ Cheese it ! 
old Hume’s coming,’ and they all scatter like the 


RObkRJCk HUME 


wind. [Unrestrained laughter now. Evidently this 
new principal had been there, the students thought.] 

‘‘ I enter the building and come up the stairs, peer- 
ing into every corner, and perhaps looking through 
the keyhole before I enter a room, to spy out any 
mischief afloat. When the. bell rings, I station a 
teacher at every turn of the stairs to mark for 
punishment the fellows who come up like rowdies. 
[A rather disconcerted look is exchanged among the 
boys.] I strike the bell three or four times to get 
you into order, and perhaps have to repeat the Lord’s 
Prayer with my eyes open, to see what boy is sticking 
a pin into the one in front of him. [The smiling 
was now mostly lost in amazement ; what kind of a 
man was this who knew all these things and talked 
right out about them .?] 

“ I begin the recitations of the day, and call up my 
first class. I take it for granted they have not pre- 
pared their lessons, and so ask them all around, in 
order to get them to lie about it, and then punish 
them for that. I spend half my time in watching to 
see who is peeking into his book, and the other half 
in putting down the names of those who are whisper- 
ing in the back part of the room. Consequently my 
class gets very little instruction. Finally I tell all of 
them to stay after school and recite over again, and 
then give them twice as much for next day. 

“ And so we go on, you spending all your time in 
trying to shirk study and play tricks on me, and I 


kODERICK FAILS IN DISCIPLINE 

spending all my time in trying to find you out and 
punish you for it. I come here day after day, as to 
a treadmill, where I must wear through six hours 
without getting put out of the building ; and you 
come here because your parents make you. At the 
end of the term you have learned nothing, and have 
as the result of fourteen weeks’ attendance nothing 
to boast of, except that you whispered eighty-one 
times, and pulled a chair out from under Jimmy 
Smith without being caught ; while I have nothing 
to point to except a record of three hundred recesses 
taken away, seventy hours kept after school, six 
hundred and nineteen ferulings, and about three 
regular knock-down fights. 

“ How do you like the programme, scholars } 
[Emphatic shakings of the head, and considerable 
manifest respect for so bold a painter of a truthful 
picture.] And yet you see it is precisely the pro- 
gramme you yourselves lay down for me to follow. 
I come here a stranger, and, I trust, a gentleman. 
Instead of greeting me pleasantly, as you would a 
stranger and a gentleman who visited your father’s 
house, you gather about my path, stare insolently, 
make insulting remarks, stamp up-stairs like rowdies, 
and shuffle to your seats with impudent bravado. 
Now, why do you do this? You are not rowdies. 
Some of you who behaved worst this morning are 
boys evidently well brought up at home and accus- 
tomed to polite intercourse. If you had met me at 


RODERICK HUMR 


98 

your own home or at your father’s office, you would 
have bowed politely, and offered to assist me in any 
way you could. You behaved as you did this morn- 
ing simply because you were following the old tradi- 
tion that prevails in many schools, that the teacher 
is a policeman, to be taken advantage of whenever 
possible. 

“ Now, I do not come here as a policeman. In the 
first place, I have no time for it. Here you are 
young men and young women, some of you getting, 
in the next few weeks, or months, or years at most, 
all the school instruction you will ever have. Think 
how much there is to do in this next term, and you 
will see that no time is left for you to concoct mis- 
chief or for me to ferret it out. I have come here 
expecting to work hard with you. I want you all to 
work hard with me — not for me, not under me, but 
with me. I ask no one here to study harder than I 
do. I ask no one to take more interest in his les- 
sons than I shall take in them. I want you all to 
look upon me as put here to help you in your effort 
to make the most of yourselves. This is .not my 
school, but our school. You do not come here to 
obey or to disobey, but to study. Whatever rules 
we may find necessary for ourselves will come not 
from my notions of discipline, but from o.ur necessi- 
ties as students. And to all such rules you are to 
consider me just as subject as yourselves. If it is 
your duty to come here promptly at nine, it is my 


'RObERlCJ^ FAILS IN DISCIPllNk 


9 $ 


duty to dismiss you promptly at twelve, and I shall 
do it. If it is your duty to refrain from whispering 
and other disturbance, in order that the room may be 
quiet and recitations uninterrupted, it is my duty to 
strive to make the recitation interesting and profit- 
able, and I shall do it. Moreover, if we work as 
hard as we ought to, we shall need generous recesses, 
and we shall have them. And as I mean to work as 
hard as any of you, I shall need to play as much. I 
want you boys to count me in when it comes to hop- 
skip-and-jump and baseball. I don’t know but I may 
venture upon a game of marbles next spring, when 
the snow goes off. 

“ But I have said enough, I think, to assure you 
that I come here as your friend and co-worker ; and 
if I read your faces aright, I shall have your hearty 
co-operation.” 

Roderick then conducted the usual morning exer- 
cises, and plunged into the business of the day. 
There was no scuffling on the stairs when the boys 
went down at recess, or when they came back. In- 
deed, during the entire term no scholar addressed 
Roderick disrespectfully or hesitated to obey him. 

“ You see,” said one of the big boys who were dis- 
cussing Roderick’s speech about the stove in Jim 
Dormoirse’s shop, “you see, he spoke just as if he 
meant every word he said.” 

The boy hit pretty near the secret. He would 
have hit closer, if he had attributed Roderick’s con- 


106 


RODERICK Ht/MM 


trol of the school to the fact that he did mean every 
word he said. 

Of course the discipline of the school was not per- 
fect. There are disorderly elements in every school 
this side of heaven, except perhaps in Boston. But 
the moral sentiment of the school preponderated 
heavily in favor of quiet, honest work. Some three 
or four large girls found the atmosphere uncongenial 
and withdrew from school. Several small, nervous 
boys were active specks upon the sun, meaning well 
enough, but fidgety by nature. Then there were a 
few of the unfortunates who are born tired, and never 
recover from it, and others whose heads were mar- 
ble to receive and wax to retain. But determined, 
persistent disobedience was unknown, unthought of. 
In the schoolroom, on the playground, on the ice, 
at evening gatherings, wherever his scholars were, 
Roderick was in active demand. Best of all, their 
liking was built upon a hearty and growing respect. 

Five or six weeks after the opening of the term, 
Roderick received a telegram which called him to 
Middletown. It was Thursday night, and he had 
barely time to catch the train. He returned on the 
next Wednesday morning, and when he changed cars 
at Albany he found Squire Coy upon the train. 

Roderick inquired eagerly about the school, from 
which he had hitherto heard nothing since he left, 
expressed his regret at being obliged to go away with- 
out notifying the board or procuring a substitute. 


RODERICK FAILS IN DISCIPLINE 


lOI 


and finally asked the squire if he had any suggestions 
to make as to the management olthe school. 

Squire Coy moved in his seat uneasily, and pre- 
pared for a flank movement. 

“You have first-rate discipline there, I suppose } ” 
he said interrogatively. 

“ I really couldn’t say about that,” said Roderick ; 
“ the fact is, we have so much to do we never think 
anything about discipline.” 

“ But is not discipline considered a very important 
element of school management } ” continued the di- 
plomatist, feeling his way. 

“ Oh, yes ! if there is any need of it. But it is 
a means, not an end. I believe in letting a pupil 
develop his individuality up to the point where it in- 
terferes either with his own progress or with that of 
others. Our scholars all assent cheerfully and heart- 
ily to certain general principles of conduct in school. 
Thus far these have proved sufficient, with here and 
there a kindly hint in private, to maintain such order 
as is required for honest and uninterrupted work. 
Any further interference with individual habits would 
chafe and irritate without corresponding gain in any 
direction.” 

“ But is it not one of the chief ends of education 
to teach children to obey } The child has a moral as 
well as a mental nature, and should be compelled to 
acknowledge the supremacy of Law.” 

“ Why should he be compelled to acknowledge it, 


102 


RODERICK HUME 


if he can be led to do so of his own accord and 
desire ? ” 

“ Because in the latter case he is made the judge 
of his rule of action, and will obey only such laws as 
may happen to have been explained to his satisfac- 
tion. He thus still follows his own will. Children 
should be taught to subject their will to that of 
others, and to obey their superiors because they are 
their superiors, without undertaking to decide for 
themselves as to the justice of the order.” 

“ Then you should put them into the army, where 
it is — 

‘ Theirs not to make reply, 

Theirs not to reason why; 

Theirs but to do and die.' 

It strikes me that this unreasoning obedience is pre- 
cisely what we do not want to develop in American 
citizens. We make our own. laws, and should study 
their reason and their history. If need be, we can 
remodel them, and not peril our prosperity or our ex- 
istence because — 

‘ Some one had blundered.’ 

Of course I expect that my pupils will obey any rea- 
sonable command I may utter. If resistance is made, 
I shall enforce obedience, if I can, at any hazard. 
But thus far no such necessity has arisen, and I cer- 
tainly shall not manufacture or seek it.” 

“ But unless you assert your authority now, it may 


RODERICK FAILS IN DISCIPLINE 103 

not be recognized when it is needed. You are like 
a boy driving a span of horses. They start out so 
quietly that he grows careless and drops the reins. 
Presently they start to run and he has no way to 
stop them.” 

“ I mean to be rather like the skilful driver, who 
holds the reins firmly but lightly. While the horses 
go aright of themselves they do not feel the bit, and 
when they do feel it they are controlled by it. But 
if one continually saws their mouths, one has no re- 
serve for emergencies.” 

“ That is the rock upon which many teachers have 
split. They let their schools run along in disorder 
because they believe themselves able to assume con- 
trol whenever they choose. But when they make 
the attempt they find that it is too late. Obedience 
is mainly a matter of habit. Look at Miss Duzen- 
berrie’s room. The scholars sit as erect as a — as a 
— well, as a row of little white gravestones,” said 
the squire ; and it was certainly unkind in his imagi- 
nation to suggest no happier comparison as a reward 
for so long a search. “ Every child starts when she 
speaks, and would jump into the canal if she told it 
to. That is what I call discipline.” 

“ Then I may as well admit that I fail in discipline, 
and always shall,” said Roderick, “for it was about 
her department and her discipline that I wanted to 
speak with you. My heart aches for those poor 
little children, — hardly more than babies, many of 


104 


RODERICK HUME 


them, — who are subjected to West Point rigidness 
six hours a day. There they sit, little mortals whom 
nature made restless because she wanted them to 
keep moving, forced to stay erect, motionless, 
speechless, with absolutely nothing to do for four 
hours out of the six. It is wicked, Mr. Coy.” 


M/SS DUZENBERRIE WINS A VICTORY 1 05 


CHAPTER IX. 


MISS DUZENBERRIE WINS A VICTORY 

HE squire smiled, shrewdly but leniently. He 



1 was deeply read in human nature, and could 
see that Roderick was jealous of Miss Duzenberrie. 
He must take the young man down a little. 

*<Why, Mr. Hume, there is no department in the 
school so popular as Miss Duzenberrie’s. Since she 
came here all the private schools have been given up 
for want of patronage. Parents feel perfectly con- 
tented if they can get their children into her room. 
We have had teachers come here from all parts of 
the county to study the secret of her success. 
Probably you have not been in her room much, Mr. 
Hume.” 

On the contrary, Mr. Coy, I have spent there 
almost all the time I could spare from my classes, 
and I repeat that it is wicked to subject young chil- 
dren to such cruel treatment.” 

Squire Coy’s smile was more sarcastic and less 
lenient. He projected another flank movement. 


“ Do you believe in corporal punishment, Mr. 
Hume .? ” 


io6 


RODERICK HUME 


“ Certainly, sir.” 

The squire was now triumphant. 

“ So you practise corporal punishment, a barbarous 
relic of rude civilization, and yet call Miss Duzen- 
berrie’s discipline cruel and wicked. Now, sir, if you 
had studied Miss Duzenberrie’s methods a little more 
carefully, you would have learned that she governs 
her hundred little scholars without any corporal pun- 
ishment whatever. She discarded it years ago, and 
has not had a ruler in her room since she came to 
Norway. You will have to revise your estimate of 
her, Mr. Hume.” 

By every rule of military strategy, Roderick ought 
to have been routed. But like the deceased Irish- 
man, he was not conscious of it. On the contrary, 
he smiled in turn. 

“Squire Coy,” he said, “there are a great many 
curious notions in this world, but to me one of the 
queerest is the popular conception of corporal pun- 
ishment. Everybody knows that ‘ corporal ’ means 
‘ bodily,’ and that corporal punishment is simply 
punishing by hurting the body. Yet the phrase has. 
acquired a sort of technical significance, till it has 
come to be understood as whipping with a rod or 
stick, especially as feruling the hand with a ruler. 
Now, what I have seen in schools where this particu- 
lar form of corporal punishment is forbidden leads 
me to believe that one of four things follows. 
Either the discipline is lax, or the children who need 


M/SS DUZENBERRIE WINS A VICTORY lO/ 

school influence most are expelled, or the delinquents 
are tortured by sneers and ridicule, or some skulking 
‘method of hurting the body is resorted to. In Miss 
Duzenberrie’s room this last is sadly the case.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked the squire in sur- 
prise. 

“ The first day I was there I noticed that as she 
walked down one of the aisles the children dodged. 
This surprised me, for she had boasted of ruling 
without punishment. Presently I saw a little girl 
whom she had just passed rub her hand, gulping 
down a sob of pain. I kept my eye upon the poor 
little thing for two or three minutes, and then called 
her up to me. I took the hurt little hand in mine 
and looked at it. On the back was still marked the 
impression of four heavy rings which Miss Duzen- 
berrie wears upon her right hand. The very claws 
that held one of the stones could still be traced in 
the tender flesh. As the little hand lay upon the 
top of the desk. Miss Duzenberrie had given it a 
short, sharp blow with these rings, and the pain 
must have been terrible to the child, especially as 
she did not dare for her life to cry out. 

“Another time a little girl failed sadly in her 
arithmetic. Miss Duzenberrie seemed wonderfully 
patient with her, and at the close of the class called 
her up, took her hand in her own, and spoke to her 
kindly. I was pleased at this, till I saw this little 
girl stealthily rubbing her hand, I called her up, 


I08 RODERICK HUME 

and found that when Miss Duzenbertie had held her 
hand she had squeezed it as in a vice, crushing the 
bones together and leaving the moulds of her own * 
fingers on the rosy skin. 

“ Now, it was only by close observation that I dis- 
covered either of these punishments. So catlike is 
Miss Duzenberrie in her motions, that the purring 
and the soft toes were all that I noticed, till I hap- 
pened to see the scratches made by her claws. If 
she could do that under my very nose, what would 
she not do when she had no one to observe her } ” 

“ Why, Mr. Hume, I don’t want to dispute your 
word, but could you not have been mistaken } 
Surely these things would have been discovered 
before now. The children would have told of them 
and refused to attend school. But they are all in- 
fatuated with her.” 

“ Exactly, Mr. Coy ; they are infatuated with her. 
That is a yet more serious count in the indictment 
against her. Miss Duzenberrie has a magnetic 
power over little children. I have not been able to 
determine just what it depends upon. The scholars 
in the upper departments despise her and ridicule 
her, but she holds the primary pupils as if under a 
spell. I think it must be a sort of nervous influence. 
You know how full of motion she is herself. She is 
always moving about, her hands are ever busy, her 
eyes are continually snapping around in their sockets. 

“ Now, if you will observe, you will find that the 


M/SS D 'UZENBEkRIE WINS A VICTORV 16 ^ 

children are equally nervous in their manner. They 
walk nervously, stand nervously, recite nervously, sit 
still nervously. They dare not take their eyes off of 
her, except when they are studying. Even then they 
continually glance up to see where she is, and follow 
all her changes of position. The whole school moves 
under her will, as if she were in electric communica- 
tion with every scholar.” 

“But that is just what we want, Mr. Hume.” 

“ Excuse me, sir, I think it is just what we do not 
want. The teacher is to develop individuality, not to 
absorb it. She should teach pupils to do, not what 
she wills, because she wills it, but what is right, 
because it is right. The moment Miss Duzenberrie 
leaves her room the pupils are in an uproar, showing 
by their extravagant misbehavior how great was the 
will-pressure upon them, and how lamentable a re- 
action is sure to follow when the pressure is removed. 
Besides, think what a strain it puts upon these little 
minds and bodies. Our whole system of primary 
instruction is barbarous. But when to the crowded 
seats, bad ventilation, infectious atmosphere, long 
hours, and unnatural discipline, you add a constant 
nervous excitement, you have every requisite for 
fitting children for mad-houses or for coffins.” 

“ Oh, pooh ! pooh ! ” said Squire Coy, good-humored 
to reach the Norway station and terminate a profit- 
less discussion with this rash-headed boy, “ you are a 
monomaniac yourself on this subject. You won’t 


}^ObERiCK H'CM& 


116 

find healthier-looking boys and girls anywhere than 
we have in Miss Duzenberrie’s department, and 
when you know her better you will take back all you 
have said.” 

He consented, however, to accompany Roderick to 
the schoolhouse, which they reached just after the 
morning recess. Everything seemed orderly as they 
approached, and they passed at once to the upper 
room. They entered quietly by a rear door, and 
stood for a moment unobserved. There was no 
teacher in the room, but the scholars were all at 
work, not noiselessly nor noisily, but busily. As 
they passed up the side of the room some of the 
scholars looked up. The moment they caught sight 
of Roderick their faces lit with pleasure, and they 
exchanged with each other glances of gratification 
which made that moment the proudest and happiest 
he had ever known. They entered his recitation- 
room. According to a rule formed early in the term, 
to enable him to visit the other departments, the 
class, in Roderick’s absence, were reciting at the 
usual hour to that one of their number whose turn it 
was to preside. The young man in charge instantly 
rose and handed the book to Roderick, who looked 
back to see how much ground they had gone over in 
his absence.^ 

“ How is this .? ” said Roderick. “ You have given 
yourselves too long lessons. I am afraid you have 
not done your work thoroughly.” 


M/ss dVzenberrie Wins a victor}^ iit 


“ There are some points we do not quite under- 
stand,” said one of the young ladies, handing him a 
book in which certain passages were marked. Rod- 
erick discussed them with the class, and then said 
humorously , — 

“Now I will show you the peril of trying to do 
too much. I am going to examine you thoroughly in 
all the work gone over.” 

A merry glance shot around the eyes of the class, 
and one or two fairly rose in their seats in literal 
exultation. It soon appeared that they had expected 
just this very thing, and had determined to give Rod- 
erick a gratifying surprise. They succeeded beyond 
their expectations, for, instead of complimenting, 
Roderick thanked them simply, but so heartily that 
they felt they could do anything for him. 

After they were dismissed, Roderick asked Mr. 
Coy, • — 

“What need is there of what you call discipline 
with such pupils as these ? ” 

“ Oh, they appear very well,” replied that gentle- 
man ; “but you will find one of these days that you are 
too familiar with them. Now Miss Duzenberrie ” — 

They had just entered the assembly-room, and from 
the opposite door came flying toward them a little girl 
scared almost out of her senses, who called out, — 

“ O Mr. Hume, Mr. Hume, Charley Russell is 
killed ! ” 

The scholars half rose at this startling intelligence, 


RODERICK HOME 


112 

and Roderick stood for a moment, perfectly quiet, 
till they had resumed their seats. Then he walked 
with soft, swift steps across the room and down the 
stairs to Miss Duzenberrie’s room. 

Charley Russell was perhaps more universally 
known than any other pupil in the entire building. 
Miss Duzenberrie’s success lay largely in her public 
displays at examinations and exhibitions. In these 
she managed to have almost every child take some 
creditable part, and thus enlisted the whole village in 
the enterprise. On such occasions Charley Russell 
was the observed of all observers. He was a child 
of rare intellectual endowment and culture. His 
memory was remarkable, but less so than his judg- 
ment and thoughtfulness. He caught at the slightest 
hint the fundamental principle involved in anything, 
whether it were a piece of machinery, a problem in 
arithmetic, or a rule of conduct. He was almost 
morbidly conscientious, and his consideration for 
others was sometimes pathetic. For instance, he 
was passionately devoted to his father, and loved to 
be with him every hour of the day. When he spent 
an evening at home, the boy usually went to sleep 
upon the lounge beside him. But on one such oc- 
casion the boy undressed himself, hung about his 
father’s neck a moment, and then rushed up-stairs 
into his dark, cold bedroom. The father wondered 
at this, and supposed the child was unusually sleepy. 
But the mother drew out from the little fellow next 


iM/SS DUZENBERRIE WINS A VlCfORV 

day> that his father looked so tired when he came 
home that Charley didn’t dare stay down-stairs any 
longer for fear he should go to sleep, and. his papa 
would have to carry him up-stairs. 

On this day he had been crying because a large 
boy had ill-treated a little one at recess. Miss Duz- 
enberrie bore with him for a time, and then tried to 
stop him, first by sympathy, and then by ridicule. 
The first would have been more effective if it had 
been more real ; the second grieved him to the heart. 
Finally Miss Duzenberrie lost patience. Taking out 
a handkerchief, she folded it through two opposite 
corners, laid it in her lap, and said, — 

“ Come here, Charley ; if you are going to be a 
baby you must have diapers on.’" 

Coarse as nature had made her, she knew that 
this was a coarse jest, and was herself half ashamed 
of it. Charley covered his eyes with one arm, waved 
away the insult with the other, and sobbed with hy- 
steric violence. 

“ Come here, I said,” repeated Miss Duzenberrie, 
astonished that any child should for an instant hesi- 
tate to obey her. 

Charley lowered his arm, saw again the hateful 
handkerchief, and waved back the insult more vio- 
lently than before. 

Miss Duzenberrie was now thoroughly aroused. 
Under ordinary circumstances she would have felt 
some pity for the child, who was quivering in every 


RODERICK HUME 


II4 

muscle from the violence of his grief. But she lo.st 
sight of everything else in the consciousness that her 
authority was set at defiance. She would conquer 
him if she had to crush him. She was no longer a 
woman training a little child ; she was a gladiator 
challenged in the arena. 

“ Come here,” she thundered, throwing all her will 
upon him, as if she were consciously casting a lasso 
of nerve ligaments about him to compel him to her. 

Oh, it was pitiful to see the little fellow struggle, 
his whole sense of honor and propriety wrestling 
bravely but vainly with her remorseless will, backed 
by his habit of obedience. Step by step he was 
drawn, convulsed with passionate emotions, till he 
reached her knee and was lifted into her lap. 

Miss Duzenberrie had conquered. The baneful 
flash in her eyes softened. Now she would hug the 
little fellow, and soothe him and pet him, and send 
him home proud and happy. It had been a hard 
struggle ; she had begun to fear she would fail, and 
had wished she had not undertaken it. But she had 
never failed yet ; not she. As she softened her mouth 
into a propitiating smile, and bent over to reassure 
little Charley, her chin gave a short, self-satisfied nod. 

But what is this } The eyes cover with film, the 
arms and legs fly violently and aimlessly, the face 
grows purple. Great God ! the boy is dying. 

“Run some of you; get his father; get the doc- 
tor ; get Mr. Hume ; get somebody, quick ! Oh ! 
what shall I do ? 


j)//ss J:>tyzENBEkRrK rn^VS A VICTORY I 15 

Miss Diizenberrie’s training for a teacher has 
taught her nothing of the human body or its ail- 
ments ; nothing, especially, to aid her in the sudden 
emergencies which often occur among children. So 
she is helpless now, and hopes that somebody will 
come who knows what to do. The children crowd 
around, awe-stricken but curious, as they see the con- 
tortions grow more irregular and the face steadily 
blacker. It is long before any of them get their 
senses sufficiently to run for assistance, so that it is 
fully ten minutes after the child is seized when Rod- 
erick enters the room. * He at once clears the plat- 
form by sending all the children to their seats, raises 
the window, lays the child upon the carpet, and 
dashes water upon his face. Then he chafes the 
child’s hands, and is still fighting with death when 
the doctor and the child’s father dash through the 
door, both having been encountered by the messen- 
ger near the schoolhouse. 

When the father saw the misshapen little form, he 
staggered as if he had been shot, and cast an appeal- 
ing glance at the physician. Too well the doctor 
knew that it was too late, and his face showed it. 
Then the father steadied himself, till his hands trem- 
bled and the nails dug themselves deep into the 
palms, looked Miss Duzenberrie steadily in the face^ 
and asked, — 

- How.? ” 

By this time Miss Duzenberrie had recovered her- 


1 1 6 kO DERICK HUME 

self. She was scared at the child’s death ; she was 
more scared at the father’s control over his bursting 
emotions ; yet this feeling was subordinate, as was 
everything else, to her one absorbing motive, — her 
own success as a teacher. She had blundered here, 
and she must recover herself. So she said, and she 
said it blandly, — 

“ It was a fit, Mr. Russell. I never knew I:hat 
Charley was subject to fits.” 

“ A fit ! ” broke in the doctor indignantly, “a fit ! 
That child did not die in a fit, but in a hysterical 
convulsion, produced by extraordinary fright or grief. 
Miss Duzenberrie, you have murdered that child.” 

Miss Duzenberrie took refuge in hysterical tears, 
while Roderick obtained from the older scholars a tol- 
erably correct account of the whole transaction. 

“ O woman, woman ! how could you break my 
little boy’s heart } ” was all the father could say ; 
and the woman replied, — 

“ I didn’t know he was so sensitive.” 

“ / didiit knoiv he was so sensitive ! ” Gentlemen, 
who are members of boards of education, have you 
any Miss Duzenberries in your corps of teachers } 
Are you intrusting the minds and bodies of fifty 
little children to a machine-teacher, who looks upon 
her pupils as so many pegs upon a solitaire-board, 
and cares only to jump them off into the succeeding 
grade at the next examination ? Would it not be 
better to put into her place a real woman, who has 


M/SS DUZExXBERRIE WINS A VICTORY 11 / 

heart and brains and sympathy and tact, even if she 
is not second cousin of a managing politician, and 
even if you must pay her half a dollar more a week 
than it costs for respectable board ? 

didnt knoiv Jie was so sensitive ! ” Parents, 
you look carefully into the food your children eat, 
the clothes and shoes they wear, and the way your 
servants treat them. Did it ever occur to you that 
it might be well to visit their rooms at school, and 
see whether their teachers are real men and women, 
devoted to their calling, teaching because they like 
the work and love children } “ O God ! bless papa 

and mamma, and give my teacher a better heart,” 
prayed a little, six-year-old the other night. Investi- 
gation brought out the fact that the woman, a teacher 
for many years in a large public school, had such 
pleasant habits as calling to a shy little thing who 
happened to be near-sighted, “ Here, you cross-eyed 
thing, come here.” The teacher knew no better. 
God made her of coarse material, and she couldn’t 
help it. But he did not make her for a school- 
teacher, and yet she is one. Suppose you take in- 
terest enough in it to see whether the teacher of 
your children is a real teacher, or whether she is 
a sham that draws wages. If she is a teacher, en- 
courage her by word and work. If she is a sham, 
never rest till you get her out of the school, and out 
of the profession if you can. 

f‘/ didn't know he was so sensitive!" Teacher, 


RODERICK HUME 


1 13 


do you know ? Do you keep in mind that there is 
a soul in every one of the little bodies that you sway 
so easily ? Do you keep in mind that every such 
soul is to be respected ; is to be treated justly, to 
be strengthened and developed and trained, but never 
crushed ? Do you keep in mind that the obedience 
it is your right and duty to exact is obedience only 
of the mind and of the body, and for a given purpose ; 
and that when you ignore or trespass upon the in- 
dividuality of the pupil, you do him a grievous and 
irreparable injury ? 

Let us not judge Miss Duzenberrie too harshly. 
She is no longer a teacher. Her life ended b}^ her 
own hand — the saddest fate that ever falls to mor- 
tals. Let us hope that the fervor of her zeal is re- 
warded, and its misdirection forgiven. But may no 
such inscription as the following lie heavy upon our 
memories : — 


Cljarleg 


Born 
J uly 21 
1867 
Died 
Feb. 15 

187s 


CALL ME ‘^Z7iV/C^’” 


II9 


CHAPTER X. 

“CALL ME ‘EUNICE’” 

HE air of proprietorship with which Miss Bell 



1 had introduced Roderick to her fellow-teachers 
on the first morning grew more and more pronounced 
as the term proceeded. She it was who kept the 
little vase upon his desk full of flowers, who greeted 
him first in the morning and remained last at night, 
who consulted him most about the management of 
her room (not to trouble him, — she was an excellent 
disciplinarian, — but to avail herself of his superior 
sagacity), and who at evening gatherings showed, as 
women can so easily and yet so unobstrusively, that 
she desired and hoped for his company home. 

Had Roderick been a typical young man of the 
period, he would have thought and proclaimed that 
Miss Bell was anticipating leap year ; perhaps such a 
suspicion did sometimes occur to him. But Roderick 
had never associated much with women. In the uni- 
versity he had been too busy to seek society, and too 
obscure to be sought by it. Besides, he had long ago 
resolved to enter no society but the best, and es- 
pecially to marry no woman whom he might outgrow. 


20 


RODERICK HUME 


As yet he had won no distinction which offered him 
an opportunity to choose where he might list, and 
he had therefore deferred that search for a “ not im- 
possible she” which invests all young women with 
such mysterious interest for the marriageable young 
man. 

So it happened that no college widow had taught 
him how dangerous it is to pay attention to a sus- 
ceptible spinster, or how many pitfalls honeycomb 
one’s friendship with a young woman. Miss Bell 
was the first pretty girl who had ever taken pains to 
please him. From boyhood he had fought a rather 
lonely fight with the world, every step a struggle, 
and it was delightful to be freely offered one of the 
luxuries of life — companionship with an attractive 
young lady. Miss Bell was always ready to stay 
with him, go with him, sing for him, and listen to 
him. He liked it, and was glad she did. Beyond 
this he never bestowed a thought. 

Yet she sometimes made him rather uncomfortable. 
On Friday of the first week of the term he found 
the teachers greedily examining a newspaper. As he 
approached the group they looked at him and at one 
another, as if something in the paper concerned him. 
Miss Bell seemed singularly reticent ; but one of the 
others asked if he had seen the local paper, and 
handed him the copy they had been perusing. Then 
they all watched him as he read the following, which 
headed the local column ; 


^^CALL ME ^ EUNICES '' 1 21 

“OUR PUBLIC SCHOOL. 

“The Norway Free High School commences this week, 

Where children may go, if learning they seek. 

The scholars are eager their tasks to resume, 

For they find a kind teacher in new Mr. Hume. 

He is gentle and good, and we know he is wise, 

And the young ladies say he has pretty blue eyes. 

Of course they’ll improve just as fast as they can. 

When they have for a teacher so nice a young man.” 

Farther down he found this : — 

“SCIENTIFIC. 

“ The teachers on the hill say that they need no hygrometer 
in the building, since they can measure by the joy in the chil- 
dren’s faces the amount of HuME-idity in the atmosphere.” 

Three or four similar items were scattered through 
the paper. Roderick remarked, as he returned it, 
that he was flattered by the good opinion of the 
writer, but should feel under obligation if all future 
puffing could be left to dealers in patent medicines, 
along with the title “ professor from which he had 
already asked to be relieved. He spoke rather 
curtly. When he saw tears in Miss Bell’s eyes he 
wished he had been less abrupt, for he recognized 
in her the author. She apologized neatly, however, 
saying that half of Professor Cobb’s success had 
been due to his constant insertion of similar notices 
about himself and the school in all the papers of the 
county. She had thought Roderick might hesitate 
to write th^m, ^nd so had done it for him. It 


122 


RODERICK HUME 


with difficulty that Roderick persuaded her that the 
school could maintain itself without the tricks upon 
which quackery depends. 

Upon another morning Roderick laughingly re- 
marked, as he reached his desk, that he had over- 
slept himself and come to school breakfastless. 
Twenty minutes after opening exercises he was sum- 
moned to Miss Bell’s room. She met him outside 
the door and took him into the cloak-room, where 
were spread some sandwiches, cold chicken, and a 
pitcher of hot coffee, for which she had sent one of 
the boys to her boarding-house. Roderick forced 
himself to eat something of this lunch out of polite- 
ness ; but he felt unea.sy over it, and hoped that in 
future she would be less demonstrative in her watch- 
fulness for his comfort. 

But it was in coming home from a party at “ The 
Mansion ”, as the elder Mr. Baker’s residence was 
called, that Roderick became conscious that his at- 
tentions to Miss Bell ought to be either less or more. 
In the dressing-room Captain Stone, husband of one 
of the teachers, had remarked to Roderick con- 
fidentially, — 

“ I heard a funny remark about you to-night.” 

“ Indeed,” said Roderick ; “ what was it } ” 

“ Miss Shepherd said she thought you must be in 
love with Miss Bell, because she never took her eyes 
off of you all the evening.” 

Roderick laughed good-naturedly and turned away ; 


*‘CALL ME * EUNICE^** 1 23 

but he laid the remark aside, to be recalled and con- 
sidered when he had leisure to reflect. 

It was a crisp night, and the full moon’s veil of 
fleecy clouds was tossed on and off her face by the 
wind. The snow was covered by a thick crust, and 
most of the party returned to the village across the 
fields. Roderick helped Miss Bell over the numer- 
ous fences, and found her willing to be helped. Her 
lithe form rested so snugly against him that it was 
not strange the arm which had just lifted her over 
one wall should remain in position to lift her over 
the next ; or that neither of them felt in haste to 
reach the road. 

“ How cold it must be to-night. Miss Bell,” said 
Roderick, as they listened to a sleigh creaking along 
the road. 

“ I know of something colder than the night,” said 
Miss Bell softly. 

“ What is it.^” asked Roderick, getting into a little 
better position for the next fence. 

“ Your calling me ‘ Miss Bell ’, so formally ; ” and 
there was a little squeeze upon Roderick’s elbow. 

“ What should I call you ” asked Roderick in a low 
tone. He felt that he was skating upon thin ice. 

“Call me ‘Eunice’ and the brown eyes looked 
up to him trustfully. 

Before Miss Bell slept that night, she fully de- 
cided that the color of her wedding-dress should be 
^shes-of-rose. 


124 


RODERICK HUME 




Before Roderick slept he fully decided that it was 
time to bring his intimacy with Miss Bell to an ab- 
rupt termination. He would repulse her attentions 
kindly, ingenuously, but firmly. Just as his thoughts 
began to float, he had formulated the following an- 
nouncement, to be used as a last resort, — 

“ Miss Bell, you like it and I like it, but it won’t 
do.” 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


125 


CHAPTER XL 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


S Miss Lowe’s name has not been mentioned 



r\ since Roderick became principal of the Nor- 
way High School, the sagacious reader has doubtless 
inferred that Roderick followed Professor Cobb’s ex- 
ample and snubbed his preceptress. This was not 
quite the fact ; yet it was undoubtedly true that 
Roderick avoided her. 

The fact was, he had blundered at the start. . Dur- 
ing the week preceding the term he had become 
thoroughly convinced that for several years Miss 
Lowe had been practically the principal of the 
school. Moreover, he discovered that those who 
knew the school best were entirely aware of it. He 
had overheard the remark of a member of the board, 
that though it might be an experiment to hire a 
stranger like Mr. Hume, there was no real danger 
to the school, since Miss Lowe was capable of run- 
ning it under any principal. 

Roderick vowed that she should not run the school 
while he was principal, and made much more prep- 
aration for conquering her than for subduing the 
school, ffe had seen just such women before, and 


126 


RODERICK IIUME 

knew beforehand how she would look. She was un- 
doubtedly tall, angular, and precise. Two short thin 
curls on each side would ornament a face over which 
the dry skin was drawn like parchment, leaving her 
thin lips embalmed in a perpetual meaningless smirk. 
She would say pretty, and speak of the larger of two 
things, and of the limbs of a table. To all proposed 
plans of his she would reply that it was natural he 
should think so ; it had seemed so to her before she 
had much experience ; and quietly ignore him. Her 
acquaintance with the people, her successful experi- 
ence, and her relation to the president of the board, 
were strong cards and already in her hand. Decid- 
edly it was best to begin with a bold and unexpected 
attack, and overthrow her supremacy before she could 
summon her forces. 

Roderick worked it all out in his mind, and re- 
solved to open the campaign, and if possible to finish 
it, at the first greeting. But when Miss Bell intro- 
duced him to the other teachers. Miss Lowe was not 
at the desk, and for the time Roderick forgot all 
about her. As he called the school to order he no- 
ticed that a young woman, plainly dressed, who had 
been talking with some of the new scholars, came 
forward and sat upon one of the recitation benches. 
After he had finished his remarks to the school, and 
was about to send a class into the recitation-room, 
this person came forward and said, standing upon the 
floor and leaning one hand upon the desk, — 


PRECEPTRESS 


127 


“ Mr. Hume, I am Miss Lowe, your assistant 
teacher.” 

Roderick was amazed. Had it been to subdue 
this insignificant girl that he had wasted hours of 
preparation It was impossible. So he asked, — 

“ Not Miss Mary Lowe, the preceptress } ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Having had very little experience with women, 
Roderick relied for dealing with them upon Thack- 
eray’s verdict, who knew that he knew women only 
because he knew that he did not know them. Rod- 
erick would not be foolish enough to think he had 
nothing to fear from Miss Lowe, merely because she 
looked as if she knew her place and meant to keep it. 
Not he. The records and popular belief showed that 
she had been accustomed to direct the management of 
the school ; doubtless she meant to continue to do so, 
innocent as she looked. At any rate, he would be 
on the safe side. So he imparted his commands in 
an autocratic tone, granted her permission to continue 
her recitations as had been her habit until he should 
have leisure to inspect her work and direct any 
needed changes, and invited her to consult him freely 
at any time when she was in doubt as to what he 
woidd desire. 

Miss Lowe listened,* bowed, and retired to her 
recitation-room. She expressed no surprise ; she 
did not even look demure. She merely listened and 
obeyed. Moreover, she continued to obey. Roder- 


128 


RODERICK HUME 


ick’s plans were adopted without question, and car- 
ried out with fidelity. Where a rule had been laid 
down it was followed. When a new case came up 
it was referred to the principal. Miss Lowe evi- 
dently considered herself, as she called herself, not 
preceptress of the school, but Roderick’s assistant. 
For a time Roderick was watchful. His victory had 
been so instantaneous and so complete that he feared 
the enemy was playing ’possum, and awaiting a mo- 
ment when he should be off his guard. Gradually this 
fear gave place to another, and this other grew into 
an uncomfortable conviction that he had stultified 
himself. For as he knew her better he saw that 
Miss Lowe rather shrank from than sought either 
responsibility or prominence. Professor Cobb had 
been incompetent ; and her duty to the school had 
forced her to direct, when she would rather have 
been directed. That Professor Cobb ignored her 
services was to her a matter, not merely of submis- 
sion but of gratification, so long as he still followed 
her advice, and thus saved the school from disgrace. 
Now that she was associated with a principal fit for 
his position, she gladly submitted herself to his direc- 
tion. How gratuitous, then, had been his stupid in- 
solence when he first addressed her. 

Nor was this all. Scarcely had he become con- 
vinced that she looked upon herself only as an assist- 
ant to him, when it began to dawn upon him that in 
many respects she was the superior teacher. Roder- 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


129 


ick was a fair general scholar. In the branches she 
taught, Miss Lowe was an exact and discriminating 
scholar. Once or twice Roderick took issue with her, 
and upon investigation found that she was right. 
Thereafter he investigated first, and then felt no in- 
clination to disagree with her. On the other hand, 
he began to suspect that frequently she might take 
issue with him to his discomfiture. On two occa- 
sions she did so. 

Roderick had formed a plan for public exercises on 
the last Friday of each month, one feature being a 
talk by him upon some topic of practical science. 
Upon the first occasion he spoke of the atmosphere ; 
showed the gases of which it is composed, dipped a 
lighted candle into a jar of each, made carbonic acid 
from marble and experimented with that ; showed 
that the lungs emitted the same gas ; and finally 
treated of the importance of ventilation. 

To enforce this last topic, he undertook to show 
them how soon the audience in the schoolroom 
would die, if the ingress of fresh air were suddenly 
cut off. He had prepared the measurement of the 
room, and the amount of air breathed per hour by 
each individual ; so he put these figures upon the 
board, and proceeded to calculate how long it would 
take to convert all the oxygen present into carbonic 
acid. With customary self-reliance he had omitted 
the precaution to work the problem out beforehand, 
and he could not see why it was that instead of au 


130 


kOD ERICK HUME 


hour or two it would take weeks approximately to ex- 
haust the oxygen. He began to flounder, the people 
present to giggle, and the scholars to wonder what 
could be the trouble. Just then Miss Lowe slipped 
along the desk, under his eye,' a piece of paper on 
which was written : - — 

I per ce7it CO 2 is dangei'Oiis to life!' 

No one else had seen the motion, but Roderick 
caught the hint as a drowning man clutches at a 
straw. 

“I see that you smile,” he said, “and well you 
may. It is by this sort of reasoning that builders 
deceive themselves and murder their occupants. If 
it were true, as I have assumed, that air can be 
breathed until all the oxygen is converted into car- 
bonic acid, the danger of ill ventilation would be 
comparatively small. But what is the fact } One 
tenth per cent of carbonic acid produces headache, 
one per cent faintness, and from two per cent up- 
ward, numbness and death. These are the figures 
for you and for your children to remember, and I 
implore you never to reason that air can be breathed 
over and over till all its oxygen is exhausted.” 

The people remarked, as they left the schoolroom, 
that Roderick was an orator as well as a scholar. By 
no other way than by pretending for the moment to 
be himself misled could he so forcibly have impressed 
upon them the minute proportion of carbonic acid 
which makes the air deadly. 


YitE PRECEPTRESS 

One of Roderick’s first reforms had been in the 
direction of composition. Blue ribbon and platitudes 
once a term had satisfied Professor Cobb, and the 
scholars had neither the habit of thought nor the 
habit of expressing it. So Roderick took vigorous 
hold of this department, and soon aroused consider- 
able interest. Among other things, he offered a 
prize for the best composition written during the 
first half-term. 

In selecting this he should have consulted Miss 
Lowe, and he thought of doing so. But he rather 
flattered himself that his standard for judging an 
essay was different from that of most men and of all 
women teachers. While others looked for fine sen- 
tences, he hunted for thought. Punctuation, pen- 
manship, periphrasis, were all good in their way, but' 
they were merely vehicles of expression. It was 
the thought that gave a composition its value. 

So certain was he that Miss Lowe would not 
appreciate this, that he made the award without 
consulting her. She seemed anxious about it ; and 
finally, a day or two before the prize was to be 
publicly given, she asked him who was to receive it. 

“ Miss Blarston,” he said. 

“ Miss IMarston ! ” she repeated ; ‘‘are you certain 
you are not making a mistake ? ” 

“Oh, yes,” he .said confidently; “hers was not 
only the best essay in the lot, but one of the best 
I ever read.” 


'}wbkA’/CA' huMe 

“ I hope you will examine it very closely/’ said 
Miss Lowe ; “ I don’t believe Miss Blarston ever had 
an original thought.” 

“Just wait till you hear her read it,” replied Rod- 
erick, more than ever convinced of his wisdom in 
making the award without consultation. 

On the appointed day the schoolroom was crowded. 
Fifteen essays were presented. Miss Blarston’s being 
the last. As the first graceful sentences were read, 
Roderick turned with a triumphant look to Miss 
Lowe. She was listening intently, and evidently 
seeking to recall something ; of a sudden she seemed 
to grasp it, turned upon Roderick a glance which he 
interpreted as a request to wait till she returned, and 
slipped quietly out of the room. 

Instead of announcing the award at the close of 
Miss Blarston’s reading, Roderick introduced a duet 
on the piano. Just as it ended with a final bang. 
Miss Lowe appeared at the door of her recitation- 
room and signalled to Roderick. He entered the 
room, and took from her an opened volume of Tho- 
reau. She pointed to the passage ; and Roderick 
read Miss Blarston’s beautiful and highly original 
essay, word for word, except where, abysm of humili- 
ation, he had found flaws in her style and suggested 
more felicitous expressions. He crimsoned, and looked 
Miss Lowe in the eye a moment. Then he said, — . 

“ Miss Lowe, I cannot render you a sufficient 
apology, but I am grateful.” 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


133 


He returned to his desk, and for a moment glanced 
over the room in silence. Miss Blarston’s face was 
flushed with the consciousness of triumph at hand. 
Her mother, vulgar in silk velvet, and her father, 
vainer of himself but more genial than usual, looked 
down upon the parents of duller children, as well as 
upon the owners of fewer dollars. The audience 
wondered why fortune showered all her gifts upon 
a single family. The scholars rejoiced at Vic Blar- 
ston’s success, not because they particularly liked- 
her, but because she had honestly earned it. But all 
of them wondered why Roderick delayed to announce 
the prize. 

Finally Roderick spoke. 

Several weeks ago I announced that in the award 
of the prize upon this occasion, I should be governed 
mainly by the originality of thought in the composi- 
tions offered. I have been gratified to see the effort 
put forth ; and I feel that the whole school has prof- 
ited, as well as those who have taken part on this 
occasion. After a careful comparison of the composi- 
tions which have been read, I have decided to award 
the prize to Miss Nelly Thurston, who will please 
step forward.” 

The audience was filled with consternation, and 
the room was almost in an uproar. Vic Blarston 
tried to look indignant, but was rather frightened. 
Her father half rose from his seat, and began to re- 
mark in an audible tone that, by blank, no such blank 


134 


RODERICK HUME 


blank blank proceedings was going to be tolerated, 
by blank blank. Nelly Thurston, a shy little thing, 
whose essay had been as simple and innocent as her- 
self, hesitated to come forward, and tried to protest 
against the award. But Roderick was master of the 
situation, and he knew it. He waited, till even John 
Blarston’s blanks had become inaudible, and then 
continued, — 

“ I see that some surprise is manifested because 
.the award was not made to the last essay read. This 
surprise is creditable, highly creditable, to the liter- 
ary taste of the audience. Since ' that essay was 
written, some twenty years ago, by Henry D. Tho- 
reau, especially since it was published in this hand- 
some form [holding up the volume], as a part of his 
book entitled ‘ Walden, or Life in the Woods ’, it has 
been deservedly a favorite. As it has already pleased 
the audience, I trust that they will be willing to lis- 
ten to it again. Master Potter, I will call on you to 
read it.” 

One of the smallest but brightest boys in the 
school came forward and read the part copied by Vic 
Blarston, while the audience stared at one another 
and at poor Vic. The girl flushed ; but she reso- 
lutely bit her under lip, and never flinched under the 
blaze of four hundred eyes. Mrs. Blarston could 
have clutched Roderick’s hair ; but her husband, al- 
ways ready to give in when he or his was beaten, 
soon lost whatever chagrin he may have felt in 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


35 


admiration of his bold, handsome, indomitable daugh- 
ter. He even went up to Roderick, shook his hand, 
and exclaimed in a hearty whisper which could be 
heard down-stairs, — 

“You rather had the girl, Hume; but, by blank, 
did you see how she stood it ) A’n’t she an Ama- 
zon } Heh ? You bet ! ” 

And he carried her off in triumph. 

But Roderick went home crestfallen. That he 
should have been so utterly, shamefully cheated, and 
then rescued only by Miss Lowe, whose literary taste 
he had thought incompetent to assist his own ! 
What a contempt she must feel for him ! Doubtless 
those calm gray eyes were continually noting his 
conceited ignorance, and smiling over it within. For 
he had observed that while she never deemed it 
necessary to announce that she saw the point of a 
joke, or even to smile or twinkle her eyes over it, 
yet she never needed to have it explained to her. 
Doubtle.^s she thought of him only with ridicule. 
Why not } What was he but a big half-licked cub, 
paid fifteen hundred dollars a year to give composi- 
tion prizes to pages stolen from Thoreau 

So Roderick was uncomfortable in Miss Lowe’s 
presence. He did not dislike her. His nature was 
not small enough for jealousy or envy. He would 
gladly have gone to her frankly, and told her how 
deeply he regretted his rudeness, and how much he 
felt the need of her help in the direction of the school. 


136 


RODERICK HUME 


But he saw no way to approach her. Nature and 
training had both made him proud. He was open- 
hearted with his equals, and cordial to those whom 
circumstances placed beneath him, but he never 
made advances to those who thought themselves 
above him. He patronized no one, and he could en- 
dure no one’s patronage. If those he looked up to 
chose to seek his society, he would welcome them 
cordially, but it was not in his nature to seek them. 

Mary Lowe was in every way his superior, and 
she did not seek his society. She treated him po- 
litely, but she obeyed him. Ah ! what a sarcasm 
there was in that obedience. If she had but wavered 
in her deference to his wishes, if she had but once 
asserted herself, if she had given a single expres- 
sion to the contempt she must feel for him, it would 
have been to Roderick forgiveness of the insult upon 
which their intercourse had started, and an invitation 
to apology and frank conversation. 

But Miss Lowe did not waver, did not assert her- 
self, did not express her contempt. She simply 
obeyed, however ignorant the order. The one or 
two occasions in which she had interfered had been 
exceptions, not for her sake or for his, but for the 
sake of the school. Clearly she despised him ; and 
well she might. 

Thus Roderick communed with himself ; rather 
profitably, on the whole. He was accustomed enough 
to having his own way, and it was well for him to 


THE PRECEPTRESS 


37 


be interrupted. His new insight into certain deficien- 
cies which he had overlooked did not discourage him. 
He only set his teeth together, studied his faults and 
how to cure them, and said to himself, — 

“ She is right now, but some time she shall respect 
me.” 

In school her obedience left him no alternative 
save to continue to dictate. But in every unobtru- 
sive way he sought to atone for it, by manifesting his 
respect for her, and by lightening her work. Under 
Professor Cobb the scholars had come to look upon 
her as a sort of drudge, upon whom all the heavy 
work was placed, while the principal furnished the 
pomposity. Without speaking of her directly, Rod- 
erick somehow led them to feel that she filled most 
admirably a position of dignity and responsibility. 
Visitors to the school were always taken into her 
recitations, introduced to her as the preceptress, and 
led to attribute to her whatever they commended 
in order or scholarship. In discussions at meetings 
of the board, Roderick referred frequently to Miss 
Lowe, and to the extent and efficiency of her ser- 
vices. 

In every way which he thought she would not dis- 
cover, he tried to make her work pleasant. He took 
care that Sam kept her room well swept, her black- 
board clean, her crayons and pointers and erasers 
plervtiful. He kept open a keen eye for any signs of 
disturbance among the pupils who recited to her, and 


38 


RODERICK HUME 


nipped in the bud any growing dissatisfaction. He 
learned that she preferred algebra to geometry, and 
made a pretext to give her his own favorite class, 
and take in its place a dozen boys who persisted in 
committing demonstrations to memory. 

All this and more he did in atonement. But Miss 
Lowe still made him uncomfortable, for she still 
obeyed him. 


A CATASTJWPIIE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 1 39 

CHAPTER XII. 

A CATASTROPHE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 



X the next morning after the party at The Man- 


sion, Roderick was detained at Mr. Dor- 
mouse’s shop to attend a committee-meeting, a warm 
discussion having arisen as to the employment of 
Captain Stone as a teacher of writing. 

It was half an hour after school began when Rod- 
erick approached the building He was walking up 
the hill, engaged in thought, his head down, when a 
noise as of many feet and voices in confusion reached 
his ears. Looking up, he saw smoke pouring from 
the upper windows, and as he reached the door he 
found the scholars plunging into a panic. The teach- 
ers were frantic, and three hundred boys and girls, 
the smallest in front, were making a mad and simul- 
taneous rush to escape. Already small children were 
trodden under foot, and the stairways were so closely 
packed that movement was impossible. Screams and 
groans were heard on every hand, and the lives of all 
but the strongest were in absolute danger. 

As Roderick looked back upon the scene, he could 
remember that his fir.st thought was, — 

“ Now I shall find out whether I am a man.” 


140 


RODERICK HUME 


His second, as he braced himself and felt every 
muscle tingle, — 

“ I must subdue this panic, and I can.” 

But it was only afterwards that the consciousness 
of either of these thoughts presented itself. The in- 
stant he reached the door and comprehended the sit- 
uation, he called out peremptorily, — 

“ Back to your seats, every one of you.” 

That tone from him the children had never heard 
before, and surprise checked for an instant the mad 
desire to get out-of-doors. Roderick saw his advan- 
tage, and followed it up closely and instantly, — 

“ Frank Holman, George Burt, Henry Cook, make 
way back into the schoolroom for these girls.” 

These three large boys were upon the upper stairs ; 
not only did they begin to push up instead of down 
the stairs, but the rest of the scholars turned around 
and looked up to see what these three boys were 
doing, that they were thus singled out. 

By this time the fierceness of the panic had de- 
parted. A few more brisk, sharp commands, and the 
tide was fairly turned backward. The teachers re- 
covered control of themselves and of their pupils, 
and these departments could safely be left to take 
care of themselves. 

Meanwhile Roderick had discovered that the clouds 
emerging from the second story were not of smoke 
but of steam. Not a scholar had left his room. 
What was occurring there ? 


A Catasta^op//e and its CONSDQDENCES 14I 

He must get there, and at once. It would be 
some minutes before the stairs were cleared. He 
had but one resource. The stairs were under the 
tower of the building, and wound around an open 
space. Down through this open space hung the bell- 
rope. It was characteristic of Roderick that he 
instantly thought of this bell-rope, and that he un- 
hesitatingly climbed it. He reached the upper land- 
ing, threw himself over the railing, and reached the 
academic department. 

He was not an instant too soon. The room was 
dense with steam, which issued in huge volumes and 
with strident clamor from the main pipe, the con- 
nection of which with the radiator had somehow 
been opened. Over this pipe stood Miss Lowe, 
covering it with her hands wrapped in a thin bit 
of a handkerchief, and exerting a paroxysm of will 
to quiet the scholars. She had thus far barely kept 
them from rushing out of the room ; but they were 
thoroughly scared, expecting an explosion, and had 
been the more excited by the mutterings of the bell 
as Roderick climbed the rope. Some had already 
left their seats, others were rising, and all were ready 
for a stampede when Roderick entered. He mo- 
tioned them back to their seats with an impatient 
gesture, ordered the windows opened, and turned 
to relieve Miss Lowe. 

Poor Miss Lowe ! her hands were scalded terribly, 
and she was herself so weak from pain, and still 


kODEjnCK IltJME 


14^ 

more from exertion to maintain control of the room, 
that she fell back exhausted. Roderick placed her 
tenderly in a chair, and called two of the larger 
girls to her assistance. Then he snatched from the 
desk a dissecting-cone, wrapped his handkerchief 
about the apex, plunged it into the pipe tightly 
enough to shut off the steam, and stationed a boy 
to hold it firm. Two other boys were sent down 
the cleared staircase, for a carriage and for a phy- 
sician respectively ; and soon Miss Lowe was removed 
to her uncle’s and placed under the best of care. 

Then came Sam Sullivan, puffing and excited, who 
shut off the steam and restored the connection. It 
transpired that he had found the joint not quite tight, 
had unscrewed it, and had gone down-town for some 
white lead. Learning that there was a meeting of the 
teachers’ committee, and feeling that his presence, 
even through a keyhole, was essential to their satisfac^ 
tory transaction of business, he had hung around Mr. 
Dormouse’s shop to see what was going on. Mean- 
while Miss Lowe, finding the room cold, and knowing 
nothing of the disarrangement of the apparatus, had 
ordered a boy to go down and have the steam turned 
on. Not finding the janitor, the boy had turned it 
on himself, and when he saw what mischief he had 
done had been unable or too frightened to turn it off 
again. 

It was evident that for some time Miss Lowe 
would be unable to resume her work at school, and, 


A CAfAStRO'P/I^ AND ITS COXSEQDENCDS I4J 

Roderick called upon her that evening, assuring him- 
self that, however unwelcome he might be personally, 
it was his duty at least to inquire for her. In case 
she chose to see him, he was prepared to express, 
formally and respectfully, his sympathy for her misfor- 
tune, and his gratitude and that of the school for her 
courage and devotion. Should she receive this kindly, 
and not seem in too much of a hurry for him to go, 
he thought he would venture to express, still formally 
and respectfully, his admiration not only for her for- 
titude, but for the power she had shown of controlling 
the school in the midst of such excitement. If any 
opportunity were given him to say anything further, 
he would, still formally, and yet more respectfully, 
ask her to give directions as to the work of her 
classes while she was absent, the entire control of 
which he wished her to continue to exercise, so far 
as she felt able to take the trouble to express her 
wishes. Having outlined in his own mind a con- 
versation on this basis that would have comported 
with the dignity of the Venus de Milo, he rang the 
bell with Spartan determination. 

But he soon found that Miss Lowe receiving a 
caller at home was a different person from Miss Lowe 
obeying a self-announced superior at school. He was 
warmly greeted by Mrs. Marvin, and ushered into 
what seemed to him the most luxurious room he had 
ever entered. It was not so much that the furniture 
was costly, as that it was so combined and arranged 


ROl)ERlC 'K home 


144 

as to impress the eye with a sense of elegance and 
comfort. Roderick’s idea of household taste was 
derived from Euclid, and might be demonstrated. 
Thus : — 

Givoi a rectangular roo 7 n, one stove, one table, one lounge, 
one mat, four chairs, and three pictures. Problem : to ar- 
range the same tastily. 

Solution: From the north-east corner of the room lay off 
2)0 feet upon the north side, and at that point place the north- 
east leg of one chair, and push the chair against the wall. From 
the north-west corner lay off ' 1 % Ret upon the same side, and at 
that point place the north-west leg of another chair, and push 
that chair against the wall. In like manner arrange the other 
two chairs directly opposite the first two, upon the south side. 
Bisect the west side, and from the point of bisection draw a line 
perpendicular to the west side and extending to the east side, 
which it will also bisect. (Book xxxi.. Prop. 27.) Upon this 
line lay off 2 U feet from the west side, and over that point as a 
centre erect the ‘stove. Likewise lay off 2F2 feet from the east 
side, and at that point place the middle point of the outer edge 
of the mat, taking care that the mat is parallel to the east side. 
Then push the lounge against the wall, taking care that the mid- 
dle point of the length of the lounge falls exactly over the line. 
Bis^'ct the line, and over the middle point place the middle point 
of the table, taking care that the four sides of the table shall be 
parallel with the four sides of the room. 

From the point where the line bisecting the room meets 
the east side of the room, erect a perpendicular to the ceiling. 
This line will bisect the east side of the room. (Book Ixiv., 
Prop. 36.) Bisect this perpendicular line, and over the point 
of bisection place the middle point of the largest picture, and so 
hang it that the sides of the frame shall be parallel with the cor- 
responding sides of the east wall. In like manner hang the 


4 catastrophe AHb Its CONSEb.t}EHCK'S 1 45 


second and third pictures over the middle points of the north 
and south walls respectively. 

The room is now furnished in perfect taste ; for since two 
chairs and the included picture upon the north side of the room 
balance two chairs and the included picture upon the south side, 
and since the lounge, mat, and picture upon the east side balance 
the stove, zinc, and stovepipe upon the west side, and since the 
table is in the middle, therefore the room is symmetrical and 
therefore beautiful, according to Axiom i, which says : “ Things 
which are symmetrical with each other are symmetrical with the 
taste.” Therefore the room is tastily arranged. 

Q. E. D. 

Coro/lary. Since the displacement of any article will destroy 
the symmetry of the room, all studying should be done in the 
bedroom. 

In Roderick’s mind this method of reasoning had 
never been disturbed ; and the first thought that oc- 
curred to him while he awaited Miss Lowe, was that 
these rooms could not be demonstrated. Unques- 
tionably they were in perfect taste ; yet they im- 
pressed upon him at once a sense of comfort and of 
welcome, foreign enough to the rectangular models 
of his household Euclid. He drew a chair nearer 
the grate ; nothing seemed to be disturbed. Pictures 
and books were scattered about promiscuously, one 
would think, yet somehow fittingly. In time he 
learned the secret, — that in the presence of some 
women all things arrange themselves in forms of 
beauty and fitness as instinctively as rain-drops 
gather into snow-crystals. When he learned that 


146 


RODERICK IlVMR 


secret, he learned another, — that Mary Lowe was 
one of these women. 

These secrets did not reveal themselves on this 
first evening; they merely showed their presence in 
making him conscious that there was in this house 
an atmosphere of refinement which he had never be- 
fore entered. But there was a secret which revealed 
itself this very evening ; no less than that his calm, 
quiet, intellectual preceptress was a charming young 
woman, full of fun, and gifted with extraordinary kind- 
ness and tact. Before Roderick could commence the 
first of his formal sentences, she had made him feel, 
how much by word and how much by manner he 
has never been able to determine, that she was de- 
lighted to see him ; that she esteemed him and liked 
him ; and that she could never thank him enough for 
having appeared so opportunely, saved her and the 
school so bravely, and cared for her so kindly. 

This change of venue was so startling that Rod- 
erick was durnfounded. He became conscious that 
Miss Lowe had stopped talking, and that he was ex- 
pected to say something. But what Manifestly 
the formal speeches he had prepared would never 
answer, and he hardly dared trust himself to impro- 
vise anything under circumstances so utterly dif- 
ferent from anything he had anticipated. And yet 1 
Had he not long ago resolved that if Miss Lowe ever 
crossed the barrier between them to meet him, he 
would seize the opportunity to apologize } She had 


T- 


A CATASTA^OP//E AXD ITS CONSEQUENCES 147 

crossed the barrier ; she had met him cordially : he 
would apologize and start with a clear conscience. 
So the rather awkward silence which had followed 
Miss Lowe’s warm greeting was abruptly broken by 
this remarkable response : — 

“ Miss Lowe, I sincerely beg your pardon ; will 
you forgive me ” 

“ What ! for saving my life } ” asked Miss Lowe 
lightly ; but the question was aspirated : she knew 
what he meant. 

“No, Miss Lowe,” continued Roderick firmly; 
“but for treating you rudely. It originated in a mis- 
understanding, and was continued in the blindest stu- 
pidity. As soon as I knew you, even a little [he said 
this humbly, for he felt to-night, more than ever, how 
little he knew of her], I saw my blunder, and I have 
waited only for an opportunity to confess it. Will 
you forgive me } ” 

There was silence again for a moment. Then 
Miss Lowe said quietly : — 

“ Mr. Hume, I knew that you mistook me, and 
why you mistook me. I have known that you saw 
and regretted your mistake. I have known, too, 
better than you suspected, what pains you have 
taken to atone for that mistake. The little things 
that you have done to make my work pleasant have 
been a revelation to me. I did not know that any 
man had the instinct, not to say the willingness, to 
do so much for the happiness of another. But when^ 


nODE 'RiCl^ HUME ■ 


148 

after all the trouble I had had with Will Smith, on 
the very morning after I had lain awake all night, 
feeling that matters had come to a crisis, and that 
I could not control him [here Miss Lowe’s voice 
trembled], he came up to me before school and asked 
me to forget all that was past, and see what a good 
boy he would be all the rest of the term ; then, Mr. 
Hume, I did not need to ask who had sent him, or 
who was the kindest, noblest teacher I ever knew. 
You have put me under an obligation that I can 
never meet. There, Mr. Hume,” she said, laughing 
out of eyes that glistened, “we have both been to 
confession, and we can afford to be friends. I can’t 
shake hands [here she looked pitifully down at the 
big bandages in her lap], but I will promise not to 
obey any more unless I want to.” 

Then they both laughed, and laughed again when 
Miss Lowe tried to hold a handkerchief to wipe 
her eyes with her bundled-up hand. Then Roderick 
told her what sort of a picture he had of her in his 
mind when he had prepared to wage battle ; and she- 
told Roderick, not quite frankly I fear, what first 
impressions she got of him. So that day was marked 
with a white stone in Roderick’s calendar, and he 
went home happy. 



1 


HELP IN SELF-INSPECTION 


149 


CHAPTER XIII. 

RODERICK HAS HELP IN SELF-INSPECTION THAT 
PROVES BOTH PLEASANT AND PROFITABLE. 

R oderick went to Mr. Marvin’s again, and he 
went often, until he learned to feel more at 
home there than elsewhere. Sometimes he learned 
his own deficiencies more abruptly than his pride 
could have wished. One day he asked Miss Lowe to 
sing, and offered to play the accompaniment. He had 
picked up a little superficial knowledge of music, as 
of most other things ; and among the class of musi- 
cians he had mingled with, his proficiency was respec- 
table and rather creditable. Tom Baker, always 
more than ready to yield his place to another, had 
even given up to Roderick the organ at the Baptist 
church ; and the weekly practice and rehearsals were 
giving him much confidence. So he opened the 
“Creation”, and proposed that she should sing 
“ With Verdure Clad ”. She assented, and he began 
as he would for his choir ; but before she had sung 
a half-dozen measures he saw how egregiolisly he 
had blundered. Her voice was light, useless in the 
ghurch or concert-rpQm? but exquisite in quality 


150 


RODERICK HUME 


and so perfectly trained that he might as well have 
sketched for Titian to color as played for her to sing. 
He arose from the piano and said, • — 

“ Miss Lowe, I am not an artist, but I can recog- 
nize one.” 

Thereafter he declined to attempt anything ])iit 
the simplest chords ; and there he gained, for she led 
him through the principles of harmony. How he 
enjoyed that teaching ! Every new chord he learned 
she illustrated from passages in Mozart or Men- 
delssohn or Beethoven, till music became for him a 
science as well as a sensuous delight. 

Mr. and Mrs. Marvin were fond of whist, and 
upon one of his first calls Roderick was asked to 
play. He consented without hesitation, although he 
had played very little. He knew that the cards were 
dealt out singly, and that the game was made by 
taking tricks, and that it was customary to play 
second hand low and third hand high. He should 
have been modest about sitting down with skilled 
players, but he never felt modest about any game of 
cards. He had learned in the army something of 
draw-poker and of stocking cards. With ordinary 
players he could so manipulate the pack as to give 
out such hands as he saw fit. Of just what value 
this ability was, since he never used it, of course he 
might have found it hard to tell ; yet he had grown 
into the habit of assuming that what he did not know 
^bout any game of cards >yas pQt worth finding out, 


HELP IN SELF-INSPECTION 151 

So he sat down confidently, at first with Mr. Mar- 
vin for a partner. Presently, at her own request, 
Miss Lowe changed seats with Mr. Marvin. Roder- 
ick rather wondered at this : it did not seem like her 
to take such a way of showing her preference for 
him. Meanwhile, as the game progressed, Roderick 
began to get points, and to remark upon them. Mr. 
Marvin showed some impatience, but Roderick 
thought that was because he and Miss Lowe were 
making the most tricks ; the fact being that they had 
all the cards. P^inally, the play showing clearly that 
Roderick held four or five trumps, Mr. Marvin led 
the queen of a suit in which Roderick had put his 
king upon the ace. Here was a point worth calling 
attention to, Roderick thought. So he said, as he 
trumped, — 

“ Rather had you there, Mr. Marvin. You see, I 
should not have put my king upon the ace if I had 
had any other clubs in my hand.” 

Mr. Marvin got up, walked emphatically around 
the room, and sat down again, his face flushed. 
Roderick inferred that Mr. Marvin did not like to be 
corrected by a person younger than himself, and re- 
solved in future to let the old gentleman’s blunders 
go unheeded. 

Then he happened to think of a first-rate whist 
story, and he told it with great gusto. Commodore 
Vanderbilt had been playing with his famous party 
at Saratoga, and near the close of the game had led 


152 


RODERICK HUME 


an ace. His partner held the king and five ; judging 
from the play that the commodore, having exhausted 
trumps, was now leading from his long suit, and 
must have the queen behind, the partner put his king 
on the ace ; and the commodore said that was the 
best play at whist ever made in this country. 

Roderick looked around the table for applause, 
and expected to have to explain why this remarkable 
play was correct. But Mrs. Marvin smiled faintly, 
Miss Lowe looked confused, and Mr. Marvin asked 
abruptly, — 

“ Did you ever see a book called Cavendish’s 
‘ Laws and Practice ’ ” 

Roderick had never heard of it. 

“ Or Clay, or Pole, or Baldwin, on whist } ” 

“ Never.” 

“ Well, those are the four recognized authorities,” 
said Mr. Marvin, “ and every one of them lays it 
down as a first principle, that you are to get rid as 
soon as possible of the commanding card of your 
partner’s long suit. Under the circumstances, the 
play which Commodore Vanderbilt pronounced the 
best eveV made in this country was as simple and as 
compulsory upon his partner as to return trumps. 
Mr. Hume,” continued Squire Marvin, in a kinder 
tone, “ where did you learn to play whist } ” 

“Why, I never learned very much about it,” re- 
plied Roderick. “ I once read over the rules in 
Hoyle, and I have played perhaps twenty games, 


HELP IjV self-inspection 


‘53 


mostly with players who had to look into the book 
to see whether the ace was high or low in cutting. 
The head and front of my acquaintance with the 
game hath this extent — no more.” 

“Well, Mr. Hume, you are a young man and I am 
an old one. Moreover, I know you pretty well, and 
what I have seen of you I like. Now, will you per- 
mit me to say that you know about as much of whist 
as you do of running a locomotive, and that you are 
as reckless in attempting to play it without studying 
the accepted authorities, as you would be in attempt- 
ing to run the Special Express to Albany to-morrow 
morning without knowing the throttle-valve from the 
bell-rope. Whist is a science, with more students 
than any other science known ; but it is also an art, 
the rules of which are, many of them, as fixed as the 
laws of the Medes and Persians. When you have 
mastered the general principles, and thoroughly 
learned the rules, then you may begin to study the 
science and experiment for yourself. Till then you. 
are only a dabbler. And let me assure you that 
there are hundreds of worthy people who would 
ignore one’s bad grammar, and overlook his eating 
with a knife, but who would never forgive him for 
leading ace, king, instead of king, ace.” 

“ But I thought whist was a game, a pastime,” 
protested Roderick rather feebly ; “you speak as if 
it were a science, as grand and as useful as geology.” 

“ There are many who believe that it is,” replied 


154 


RODERICK HUME 


Mr. Marvin ; I am not certain myself that it has 
not done as much for mankind as geology has. 
Think how many thousands have been rested by it, 
whom a ganfe less perfect and exhaustless could 
never allure from the strain of continual thought 
upon the business of the day. Think- of the many 
weaker brethren whom nothing less attractive and 
fashionable could have persuaded to mental exertion, 
who have studied and remembered and planned over 
whist till they received all the mental discipline of 
which they were capable. In short,” concluded Mr. 
Marvin, warmed back into good-nature by his own 
eloquence, “ we cannot be too grateful to those many 
strong intellects which find no other object in life 
than to play whist. You have something else to live 
for, and so have I ; to the fact that they haven’t, you 
and I owe it that they have built up a game in which, 
while the combinations are absolutely limitless, and 
every hand is a fresh surprise, yet success depends 
upon intellectual acumen and activity ; a game fit for 
Bacon and Shakespeare to have played together, and 
yet accessible to all who will master the principles 
and -rules in which are crystallized the results of a 
century of study.” 

Mrs. Marvin and Miss Lawe clapped their hands 
in mock applause at this peroration, Mr. Marvin 
called for cider and apples, and the evening closed 
amidst general good humor. 

But Roderick carried home Pole and Cavendish 
that night; and studied them. 


HELP IN SELF-INSPECTION 155 

He was continually observing that whatever was 
clone in this family was done as well as it could be 
done. This impressed him the more, because he had 
within himself a great deal of the Jack-of-all-trades. 
He did almost everything that he tried better than 
most people, but not so well as the few who excel. 
In school and at college he had ranked a little within 
the first quarter, and that was about his standing in 
whatever he undertook. Hitherto he had been thrown 
in contact with the three-quarters, and had measured 
from below. Now he was in close companionship 
with the quarter, and realized how far he was from 
the top. 

These weeks of acquaintance with Miss Lowe 
opened his eyes to possibilities of which he had 
hardly dreamed, and led him to critical self-exam- 
ination. Honest study of one’s self is never exhila- 
rating ; in Roderick it might have become morbid, 
had not his intercourse with Miss Lowe ripened into 
intimacy. Like Miss Bell, Miss Lowe was always 
ready to listen ; but Roderick soon felt the difference 
between a giddy girl, full of gush and exclamation- 
points, and an intelligent young woman, upon whose 
sympathy and upon whose judgment he could rely. 
So he learned to talk more freely of himself to Miss 
Lowe than ever before to any one else, and always 
with conscious profit. 

What is it to-night ” she said to him one even-- 
ing, when Roderick relapsed into revery more sonibre 
than 


156 


/RODERICK HUME 


“ I have been studying Emerson’s definition of 
vulgarity,” he said, “ ‘ the avarice of reward ’ . I 
don’t like to believe that I am pinchbeck, but that 
definition fits me. I teach school, but it is for fif- 
teen hundred dollars a year. I try to do my work 
well, but it is to keep my place and to have people 
speak well of me. I take an interest in my scholars ; 
but I expect them in return to like me, and, in spite 
of myself, I am inordinately gratified if I hear one 
of them call me the best teacher he ever had. In 
short, whatever I do, I expect to be paid for. Why, 
fond as I am of skating, I do not thoroughly enjoy 
it unless some one is looking on to see how skilfully 
I do it ; if I do practise by myself, it is only to learn 
some new movement by which to compel admiration 
afterward. Now, if Emerson is right, this is vulgar. 
I think Emerson is right ; bijt I don’t like to think 
myself a vulgar person.” 

“Are you sure that you do yourself justice.^” 
asked Miss Lowe gently. “ I believe that you try to 
do your work well, not in order to keep your place 
and have people speak well of you, but because it 
is your duty to do it well. Suppose the time came 
when to do your work well would make people speak 
ill of you, and perhaps endanger your place ; do you 
mean to say that you would cease to do it well } I 
mistake, if you would not set your teeth together, do 
it better than ever before, and take the consequences.” 

Qh ! I presume if it came \o a questipn of prin^ 


nRir* rjv self-jnspkctiox i 57 

cipie, I should have to fight it through,” said Roder- 
ick. “ Probably that would be through avarice, for 
a reward of some other kind, which I haven’t yet 
studied into. But the fact remains that I like to 
have people see and appreciate what I am doing. I 
am not satisfied, as I might be, with doing pretty 
well for my classes ; I want people to know that I 
am doing pretty well by them, and realize how good 
a teacher I am. It makes me disgusted with myself, 
but I cannot help showing off a class before visitors. 
I know it does not deceive them ; I know that the 
class sees through it ; yet I am so avaricious for the 
reward of a little applause that I rouse myself to un- 
wonted activity, and so select and word the ques- 
tions that the class appears brighter than it really is. 
I do not mean that I always do this,” said Roderick 
apologetically, “ but I always feel a temptation to do 
it ; the temptation must be born of what Emerson 
calls vulgarity.” 

Miss Lowe smiled. 

“ Do you suppose anybody is free from this temp- 
tation ” she asked. 

“ Yes,” said Roderick impetuously ; “ you are. 
Instead of display, you always strive to appear less 
than you are. I might have been in the same school 
with you for ten years and never have discovered that 
you sing.” 

“ But that is because my voice is useless in a large 
room,” interrupted Miss Lowe. 


158 


kODKkICK HUME 


‘‘ — But when I see you at home I learn that your 
voice, never exhibited except at home, is a marvel of 
purity and flexibility. Then your dress [not heeding 
her protestations] : at schooh you are a perfect nun, 
sober, steadfast, and demure ; always dressed in a plain 
gray, till those who see you there suppose that is the 
only color which becomes you.” 

“ But that is because it does not show crayon, and 
because there is altogether too much tendency to ex- 
travagant dress among the poorer girls,” again inter- 
rupted Miss Lowe. 

“ — But when 1 know you at home I find that you 
are a Parisian in your taste and habits. You dress 
simply enough, but with such ingenious combinations 
of costume that, if it be no more than a ribbon you 
change, you never look twice alike. Your appearance 
is always a surprise, and a pleasing surprise. You 
have a genius for dress ; you might be applauded 
and imitated by the whole village. But instead of 
lolling around In a dressing-gown at home, and get- 
ting up your costumes for the street, you so dress 
for the street that no one who meets you notices 
what you have on, and get up your costumes for the 
two or three who see you at home.” 

“ And there your comparison fails utterly,” said 
Miss Lowe, her cheeks rosy in the flickering light 
from the grate ; “ it happens that the pleasure of the 
two or three who see me at home is a reward for 
which I am more avaricious than for the rude gaze 


HELP IH SELF-/1VSPECTIOH 159 

of the public, even though it be in admiration. I 
hope you do not flatter too much,” she added, “in 
assuming that nobody notices what I have on. I 
have always felt that to be perfection in dressing for 
the .street or the .schoolroom.” 

Roderick thought of the flounced black silks 
and heavy gold neck-chains which so many women 
teachers look upon as an impressive uniform for the 
schoolroom, and wished they all could take lessons 
of Miss Lowe. 

But he was not to be diverted from his main 
thought. 

“You mean kindly in ignoring my deficiencies,” 
he said ; “ but I think it would be kinder to help me 
see them and overcome them. I recognize in this 
household something which I have not, and which I 
need. Instead oi generalizing and obscuring it by 
calling it culture, I am trying to discover in what it 
consists. So far I know two things : one, that you 
attempt to do nothing which you cannot do well ; 
another, that you do it well for the sake of doing it 
well, and not to get credit for it. I overlook, for the 
present, the graceful, happy ways of doing things, 
which come to you by instinct, but to me only by imi- 
tation ; and I study alone the motive, the principle, 
which prompts you to do everything so thoroughly. 
Of all the things that I attempt, I excel in nothing.” 

“ But you mu.st not 'forget why,” said Miss Lowe; 
“ you attempt so many things that you give yourself 


l60 RODERICK HUME 

no time to perfect any of them. I never saw any 
one catch an idea sooner, or investigate a new pro- 
ject more intelligently. For the time that you give 
to any one thing you make almost wonderful prog- 
ress. Then your attention is called off, and you go 
no farther.” 

“ So I am always to be a dabbler,” grumbled Rod- 
erick ruefully. 

“ I think not,” replied Miss Lowe ; “ you are 
young, and have not yet struck into your life-work. 
At present you are at the hub of the wheel. You 
travel a little way up this spoke and a little way up 
that, and all seem equally attractive. Presently you 
will be interested in only one side of the wheel, then 
only, in one quadrant, and before long you will be 
travelling steadily and persistently upon a single 
spoke, until you reach the rim. You know already 
how to investigate, and you have the habit of investi- 
gating. When you finally settle upon your subject, 
you will investigate it thoroughly, and will excel.” 

“Even if I might believe this,” said Roderick, 
“think how much time and effort I am wasting now.” 

“I think not,” said Miss Lowe ; “the world hardly 
gives credit enough to versatility. It is true that 
one-idea’d men do the great things and leave their 
names in history, but they are usually very helpless 
and very disagreeable in practical life. Of course I 
have nothing to say for the man who is simply fickle ; 
who is to-day a lawyer, to-morrow a clergyman, and 


ttELP IN SELE-lNSPECflON l6l 

next day a physician, merely because he is too indo- 
lent to master the details of any profession, and tires 
of them all the moment hard work is demanded. 
But the man who does with his might whatever his 
hands find to do ; who is ready for any emergency ; 
who has courage and intelligence to grapple with 
and master any difficulty, and to do well anything he 
undertakes — circumstances may keep him from be- 
ing great in any one field, but they will make him 
useful in all. Who was it that said, ‘ Great men con- 
trol circumstances, little men yield to them, happy 
men take advantage of them ’ } The great men are 
few ; for the sake of argument [and Miss Lowe 
never smiled ! ] let us admit that you are not one of 
them : you are at least one of the happy ones.” 

But the other part troubles me more,” said Rod- 
erick. “ How contemptible it is to like to be looked 
at ! I despise myself for it, but I can’t help it. 
When I was a freshman, the velocipede-fever broke 
out at Middletown. Everybody was eager to show 
that he could ride a bicycle. The rinks were 
crowded ; we had to leave our names the day before 
to get the privilege of paying sixty cents an hour to 
ride around the attic of a carriage-shop. Soreness 
and bruises were accepted with thanks ; studies were 
neglected ; time was lavished in the one mad desire 
to become an accomplished velocipede-rider. When 
we could trust ourselves on the sidewalk, how inevi- 
tably did our road take us past the young ladies' 


RODkkicls: HUMP: 


162 

boarding-schools, and with what nonchalant grace did 
we guide our fiery front-wheels ! We looked upon 
the velocipede as the great invention of the age, and 
expatiated on the glorious exercise, the cheerful ex- 
hilaration, and even on the economy in travel which 
it afforded. We rated one another by the skill with 
which we could guide our velocipedes. The man 
who could ride side-saddle, or without the handles, 
or backward, was more to be envied than the vale- 
dictorian. 

Presently the town authorities forbade the use of 
velocipedes upon the sidewalk. This took away the 
romance. Bowling along upon the sidewalk, the 
velocipede-rider seemed to be his own blooded span ; 
crunching his way through the dust of the road, he 
looked much more like his own donkey. In other 
words, we couldn’t show off any more ; and the velo- 
cipede-fever, which had gone up like a rocket, came 
down like a stick. Within a month the rinks were 
closed, and the ‘ Woods ’ and ‘ Demarests’, for the 
use of which we had been so eager to pay sixty cents 
an hour, were sold at auction for ten dollars apiece. 

“ It taught me a lesson : that the real delight we 
had taken had not been in the exercise, or in the sense 
of power, or even in the rivalry among ourselves, but 
in showing off ; but it did not cure me,” and Roder- 
ick sighed. 

But Miss Lowe laughed merrily, and clapped her 
hands. 


^ELP IN SELF-INSEKCTWI^ 1 63 

“Eureka! eureka!” she cried; “I have found a 
man who acknowledges that he is vain. I think 
most men are. I knew you were ; but I didn’t think 
you would own it, and doubted whether you knew it. 
Men usually display their vanity the worst in being 
vain that they are not vain. They forget it is the 
male peacock which struts. I don’t believe the 
woman lives who swallows flattery so readily or with 
such relish as the average man. Woman knows this 
weakness, and makes it her point of attack. She 
doesn’t tell him he is handsome, usually (though if 
she did he would believe it), because it is not his 
beauty he prides himself upon. But she places such 
deep confidence in his wisdom that she cannot give 
it sufficient expression. He exhibits his wisdom fir.st 
in recognizing her discernment and judgment, and in 
granting whatever favor she has been manoeuvring 
for. Then he straightens up and sighs when he re- 
flects that wisdom will die with him ; and when he 
opes his lips let no dog bark. 

“ You see, I have had to deal with school-boards,” 
she added apologetically ; for a little bitterness had 
sharpened her tone. “ When we wanted anything 
done. Professor Cobb brought it before the meeting ; 
but I used to interview the members beforehand. 
How many times have I used just such humiliating 
arts as these to carry our point, because a man had 
rather be made a fool of by a woman than to argue 
with her.” 


RODERICK KUM'^ 


i§4 

Roderick looked troubled. 

“ At least,” he said, “ I am glad that I discovered, 
without being told, that you were making a fool of 
me.” 

“Mr. Hume,” said Miss Lowe, with deep feeling, 
“you are the first man who ever talked with me, and 
not to me. Other men approach me as a violinist 
does a piano, and humiliate me by adapting them- 
selves to me. You take it for granted that I can 
follow you wherever your thought happens to be 
pitched. I assure you that I am grateful for this ; 
and to show you that vanity is not confined to your 
sex,” she added, smiling, “ I will admit that nothing 
could impress me more deeply with your discernment 
and judgment.” 

Roderick was too much in earnest to follow the 
light turn she sought to give the conversation. He 
looked at her intently, eagerly, and said in a low 
tone : — 

“ May I depend upon it that your thoughts will al- 
ways be in unison with mine .? ” 

He was an impetuous fellow, this Roderick. 


THE REGENTS' EXAM/NAT/ON 


65 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE regents’ examination 

O N one point Roderick and Miss Lowe differed. 

She insisted that special drill should be given 
to scholars about to pass the Regents’ Examination. 
He protested that such drill would be unfair and 
unwise. She argued that the forms employed in the 
examination were technical and exacting ; that to 
carry out for the first time the directions given as 
to signing, folding, arrangement, etc., was a task so 
novel and difficult that it employed much of the time 
and mental effort that should be given to the answer- 
ing of the questions. He replied that the directions 
were printed in plain English, and that scholars who 
were perplexed by them deserved to fail. She urged 
that all their work hitherto had been consecutive, 
and that a plunge into questions so promiscuously 
selected from an entire subject would embarrass them 
unless practice had accustomed them to it. He an- 
swered that either they knew all about the subject, 
or they did not ; if they did they could answer any 
questions that were given, in any order ; if they did 
not, then they were not ready to leave it, and ought 


RODERICK HUME 


l66 

not to pass. She urged that every one who makes 
questions has a certain mannerism about it, and that 
the language in which many of the Regents’ questions 
were stated was different from that employed in the 
text-books the scholars had used. He rejoined that 
the Regents’ questions were all intelligently ex- 
pressed, and that a pupil ought not to pass who 
could answer only Brown’s questions in grammar, 
or McNally’s in geography, or Robinson’s in arith- 
metic. She said that it was precisely to overcome 
this mannerism in text-book expression that she 
wanted to drill her class in these Regents’ questions. 
He said that no teacher so capable as Miss Lowe 
needed for this purpose any other questions than 
such as her own ingenuity could suggest. She said 
that she had too much other use for her ingenuity 
in the class to waste it in trying to originate on the 
spur of the moment questions better than wise men 
of ten years’ experience had prepared with careful 
study. And so the discussion went on, sometimes 
rather warmly. 

Finally they agreed to disagree. It was arranged 
that Roderick should take one of the two classes 
which were to enter the next examination, and Miss 
Lowe the other. Each was to train one’s own class 
according to one’s own theory, and the result of the 
examination should decide which was right. 

Roderick was surprised to see how zealously Miss 
Lowe strove to win in the coming struggle. She 


THE REGENTS' EXAMINATION 1 6 / 

inspired her class with equal enthusiasm, drilled 
them again and again in all the old Regents’ ques- 
tions she could find, held similar examinations where 
all the forms were rigorously insisted upon, and 
made every point of failure a point of special prepa- 
ration. In spite of himself Roderick was moved to 
corresponding effort. He saw that Miss Lowe re- 
lied on practice ; he flattered himself that he relied 
upon principles, and he exacted the most rigid anal- 
ysis of every problem and definition and rule. 

Just after school, on the day before the examina- 
tion, the sealed packet of questions was brought to 
Roderick by one of the examining committee, to be 
kept locked up for use the following morning. Rod- 
erick had never seen these questions before, and he 
took up one of the brown envelopes rather curiously. 

University of the State of New York. 
PRELIMINARY ACADEMIC EXAMINATION. 

Second Arithmetic Session. 

Friday Moriiing, February 26ih, 1875 . 

Time allowed for answering the enclosed questions, 10 a.m. to 12 M. 
Two hours only. 

To be retained by the Chairman of the Examining Committee, and not to 
be opened until the time abovfe assigned shall have arrived, and all other 
preliminary arrangements fot this session shall have been completed. 


Stories he had heard of cheating at these exami- 


RODERICK HUME 


1 68 

nations came into his mind, and he questioned the 
effectiveness of the precautions taken. 

“ For instance,” he said to himself, suiting the 
action to the word, “ what hinders my splitting this 
thick brown paper with a sharp penknife } ” 

He was an adept at this, and he ran the thin, keen 
blade through an inch or so of the envelope, near to 
the end. 

“ There,” he said, bending the envelope and look- 
ing in ; “ I can extend this slit and read the questions 
if I like ; I can even pull out one of the papers ; and 
yet a bit of mucilage and a camel’s-hair brush will 
make it practically impossible to tell that the enve- 
lope was ever meddled with.” 

At this instant the door to his office opened and 
Miss Lowe entered. He looked up, and was about 
to tell her what he had been thinking of. But the 
moment she saw him, she stopped, blushed violently, 
and instantly retreated, almost running till she had 
left the building. This was unaccountable to Roder- 
ick. Never before had he seen Miss Lowe discon- 
certed. Why should it have startled her to see him 
sitting at his own private desk } 

“ She must have overworked herself and grown 
nervous,” he said lightly, locking up the envelopes 
and putting on his overcoat. 

Then he thought he heard a light footfall and the 
rustle of a dress, and he waited a moment, thinking 
she would return and explain. She did not come^ 


THE REGENTS' EXAMINATION l6g 

and he looked for her ; but he could not find her. 
Then he went home to tea and thought no more 
about it. 

The next morning, Miss Lowe came to him as 
soon as he entered. She had lately taken to quiet 
but effective adornment in dress, even at school, and 
on this morning she looked bewitching ; she must 
have known it, for she spoke with becoming sauci- 
ness. 

Two favors, Mr. Hume, and you must grant 
them both.” 

Speak ; your slave hears but to obey.” 

“ One : I want to drill my class in arithmetic from 
nine till ten.” 

“ But you will tire them ” — 

“ Two : I want to take the ten-thirty train for 
home, and stay till Monday.” 

“ But who will correct ” — 

Miss Lowe stamped her foot with mock impa- 
tience. 

Is this the slave that hears but to obey ? ” she 
asked. 

Just then Roderick was summoned to another part 
of the building, and he had but time to consent to 
both of Miss Lowe’s requests. And yet he thought 
them rather strange. 

The examination was conducted as usual. One of 
the committee looked in for a few moments in the 
forenoon, and another in the afternoon. Roderick 


RODERICK HUME 


170 

saw no tendency to c 5 mmunication, and was gratified 
at the quiet, business-like earnestness with which the 
scholars kept at work. When he looked over the 
papers at night, he was astonished to find how com- 
pletely they sustained Miss Lowe in every position 
she had taken. Her scholars had been neat, accu- 
rate, and expeditious. His own had stumbled over 
the simplest points, and had some of them given up 
in despair. 

“ She is right after all,” he said to himself ; 
theory will not stand the test unless it is sus- 
tained by practice.” 

This was the more remarkably shown the next day. 
The second arithmetic exercise contained a problem 
in which, probably through some typographical error, 
the answer made a man’s age 145 1-5 years. This 
had proved a poser for every cne of his pupils, while 
every one of hers had worked it neatly, accurately, 
and seemingly without special effort. 

“ She is right, entirely right,” he said to himself 
heartily ; “ indeed she always is.” And he spent a 
little time in one of his Spanish castles. 

He devoted Saturday to examining the papers, and 
sent twenty-one sets to Albany. Then he dropped 
in for a rubber of whist at Mr. Marvin’s, went to bed 
early, and slept soundly. 

He was at church promptly next day, and played 
a voluntary with all the stops out, much to the dis- 
gust of the puffing organ-blower, Tom Baker came 


THE REGENTS' EXAMINATION 


71 


in and sat down beside him to say something. Rod- 
erick softened the music and turned around to listen. 

“ Look here, Hume, how is this } When you got 
us fellows on the committee to sign the declaration 
to go down to Albany with the Regents’ papers, you 
told us it was all right, didn’t you } ” 

“ Of course,” replied Roderick in astonishment. 

“ Bjit don't yon know that Miss Lowe drilled her 
class Thnrsday mot'ning in the very arithmetic ques- 
tions that were given on Friday!" 

“No,” replied Roderick quietly; “I will look into 
that.” 

He turned around again to his organ, and repeated 
the second movement of the “Traumerei” till the 
bell stopped tolling. 

When Tom Baker entered the church, Roderick 
was saying to himself that he was perfectly con- 
tented. He held a good position, he enjoyed his 
work, and he was doing it well, as his twenty-one 
Regents’ scholars showed. He got a good salary, 
and was saving most of it. He was respected and 
liked by his pupils ; he was well-treated by the com- 
munity. It was no small privilege that he could 
utter his happiness upon a grand church-organ, as 
he was doing this morning. But all these were inci- 
dents. His joy lay in the consciousness that he 
loved and was loved by the dearest and truest wo- 
man in all the world. 

He was indeed blessed above his deserts, 


1/2 


RODERICK HUME 


He had even reflected that, in his previous experi- 
ence, definite thought of complete security had always 
preceded some impending disaster. He had amused 
himself by wondering whether the blow in this case 
would be a quarrel with Mr. Blarston, or the break- 
ing of a certain savings-bank in New York City. 

The blow had come. As usual, it was unforeseen 
and overwhelming. 

How often the memory accumulates facts appar- 
ently unconnected, until another fact binds them to- 
gether, and by an instant overwhelming attack crushes 
conviction upon the mind. 

Roderick had been surprised at Miss Lowe’s flight 
from his office, at her demand for an unusual reci- 
tation, at her absenting herself from two days of 
school, and at the phenomenal success of her schol- 
ars at the second arithmetic session. He had remem- 
bered.that he heard a woman’s step after he had seen 
Miss Lowe leave the building, and that the woman 
must have concealed herself when he looked for her ; 
that he had left his keys in his drawer and found them 
there the next morning ; that significant glances had 
passed among Miss Lowe’s pupils when the papers 
were given out on Friday morning, and that several 
of the scholars had lingered as if to speak to him, 
when he was too busy examining papers to listen to 
them. Each of these facts had left an impression 
on his mind. In the light of Tom Baker’s statement, 
every one of these facts became a link in an unbroken 


THE REGENTS^ EXAMINATION 17 ^ 

chain of evidence. The conviction was instant and 
irresistible ; to Roderick’s stern sense of justice it 
came in its baldest form, — Mary Lowe was dis- 
honest. 

At a flash the light had gone out of Roderick’s 
life, but he made no sign. In deep trouble, it was 
not in his nature to seek sympathy ; he could endure 
anything but pity ; all he asked was to be left in sol- 
itude, to writhe alone till he had accustomed himself 
to his new and gloomy environment. 

So he affected to be unusually natural. He dis- 
cussed with zeal the selection of a closing anthem 
for evening service, and yielded more than usual to 
the satirical remarks of Edith Baker, who sang so- 
prano, and didn’t like the minister. He even tried 
to imagine meaning enough in the mechanical Sun- 
day-school hymns to play them with expression at 
noon ; and he so interested his class that they sighed 
when the bell rang. But when he reached his room 
he threw himself down, and hardly stirred till the 
tea-bell rang. Then he made a careful toilet, went to 
rehearsal, stayed through the service, and came home 
again. Then he went up to the schoolhouse. 

Thus far he had admitted only that it must be 
true. That it was true he would believe only from 
her own lips. But there were two or three further 
investigations to make. He had dreaded to enter 
upon them, but now he had nerved himself to do so. 

Forty sets of papers had been sent. When the 


174 


RODHkick mr.Aik 


answers were handed in, the questions had been 
laid away together. Roderick counted them. There 
were forty in six of the sets, and but thirty-nine in 
the second arithmetic. 

Then he went to the bin where Sam emptied the 
waste-paper baskets. He found the envelope for the 
second arithmetic. The committee had torn the end 
off, three-quarters of an inch from the top. He 
found the end and fitted it. He examined it, and 
found that the slit he had cut had been extended two- 
thirds of the way across. 

Then he went slowly, reluctantly, to Miss Lowe’s 
recitation-room. It was as he feared. There, worked 
out in full, in her own small, clean-cut figures, was the 
24th problem, and at the close, “145 1-5 years. Am.,’' 
in her own clear handwriting. 

He sank into a seat, and stared long and blankly 
at this self-given evidence. Then he rose and uttered 
hoarsely : 

“ Only from her lips will I believe it ; only from 
her lips.” 

So he went home and awaited the morrow. 

But the morrow did not bring Miss Lowe. Instead, 
there came this telegram : — 

“ Too bad. l)ut I nui.st .stay this one day more. 

M. L.^’ 

While he was looking at it, more than ever dis- 
mayed, Mr. Blarston entered. 

“ Look here, Hume, by blank, you’ve got us into 


T)tiK kEGEK^Ts'^ A')CAA//JVA T/OjV 17$ 

a blanked pretty scrape. We swore on your word, 
by blank, that the examination was all right, and here 
every blanked man, woman, and child in town knows 
that Miss Lowe had the papers beforehand, by blank. 
Where in blank is she ? ” And Mr. Blarston stared 
around angrily. 

“ I expected her this morning,” replied Roderick, 
itching to knock him down, and yet unable even to 
defend her absence ; “ this telegram has just come 
in.” 

“ Yes, it IS too bad, too blanked bad,” said Mr. 
Blarston sarcastically. “ Now I’ll just telegraph 
back, by blank, that there’s going to be a board 
meeting to-night, by blank, to look this thing up, 
by blank blank. And if she knows what’s best for 
herself, she’ll be here, by blank.” 

“ Perhaps you had better let me send the message ; 
I know her exact address,” said Roderick, wondering 
how many oaths Mr. Blarston would have managed 
fo insert among the ten words. 

So this telegram came to Mary Lowe : — 

“ Sore trouble here. Board meeting to-night. Don't fail to 
come. 

The train should have arrived before seven o’clock, 
and both Roderick and Mr. Marvin went to the station. 
But they kept apart. Roderick felt that he ought in 
some way to shield Miss Lqwe, and that Mr. Marvin 
expected it of him. But he could not see how to do 


RODERICK HUME 


176 

it, at least until he had talked with her and discovered 
just what were the facts. He did not wonder that 
Mr. Marvin avoided him, but he could not help it ; 
so he simply waited, determined at any hazard to see 
her before the board met. 

But both were disappointed. The train was an 
hour and a half late, and they were obliged to go to 
the meeting. 

In the investigation which followed, Mr. Blarston 
took a leading part. He hated Mr. Marvin, because 
he saw in the squire and his surroundings a dignified 
culture which he himself, with all his money, had 
never been able to purchase. And he had an espe- 
cially bitter feeling against Mary Lowe. When she 
first came to Norway Mrs. Blarston had resolved to 
patronize her, and had made herself conspicuous by 
manifestations of friendliness. All these overtures 
Miss Lowe had courteously but steadfastly declined, 
till Mrs. Blarston’s liking had turned to haughty ha- 
tred. Victoria Blarston, too, disliked her in school, 
and was continually complaining at home of the 
slights her stuck-up little teacher inflicted upon her. 

So Mr. Blarston entered upon the discussion of 
this matter with coarse relish, and drew from Roder- 
ick every point of the evidence at his command. 

This was just concluded, when the door opened 
and Mary Lowe entered. Every one present but Mr. 
Blarston instinctively rose, and Tom Baker handed 
her a seat. She looked more charming than ever, 


'THE REGENTS^ EX AMINA TtOH 

her cheeks flushed by her rapid walk from the depot, 
and her eyes big with curiosity and concern to know 
what could be the “ sore trouble ” of which Roderick 
had telegraphed. 

She soon learned. 

“ Mary,” said her uncle in his most querulous, sar- 
castic tone, “ it has been discovered that somebody 
opened the Regents’ questions before the examina- 
tion, and Mr. Hume here has been testifying before 
this board that it was you who did it. What have 
you to say about it ” 

Miss Lowe sprang up, turned deathly pale, half- 
staggered back, and stood leaning upon the back of 
the chair a moment. Then she said, — 

“ This is very sudden. Will you allow me to retire 
a moment, till I can realize it ” 

Mr. Blarston sniffed his nose, and remarked audibly 
that no further evidence of her guilt was needed. Mr. 
Marvin and Roderick looked troubled and started up, 
but Tom Baker was already conducting her into an 
adjoining room. 

When Mr. Baker came back, Roderick entered the 
room. How she must despise him that he had found 
no way to save her ! He stood before her humiliated, 
and could only say, — 

Mary, it was forced upon me. Can you forgive 
me } ” 

Her glance swept him, scornfully at first ; then it 
softened, and became a look, whether of contempt or 


178 


RODERICK HUME 


of pity he could hardly tell, but certainly of unutter- 
able sadness. He wished that he had sworn that he 
opened the envelope himself, and that she did but his 
bidding. He was about to return to the board and 
say so, when she swept past him and stood before 
them like a queen. 

“ Gentlemen,” she said, “ I hereby resign my po- 
sition in your school. I suppose this wUl render 
further investigation unnecessary.” 

“ Yes ; but, by blank, we want you to own up that 
you opened that envelope,” said John Blarston. 

Before other members of the board could interfere, 
she replied coldly, “ Your principal has given his tes- 
timony, and he knows all the facts in the case.” 

Then she bowed and left the room. Her last look 
fell upon Roderick, and the glance of those gray eyes 
stayed with him and troubled him. 

When Mr. Marvin reached home, Mary threw her 
arms about his neck and asked, — 

“ Have I been a good child to you, uncle } ” 

“ The best in the world, my dear, dear girl ; ” and 
his voice was broken by indignant sobs. 

“ Have I deserved that you grant me two things 
I shall ask, without fail and without discussion } ” 

“ Yes, yes, anything,” sobbed the old gentleman, 
feeling confident that the first was to pitch Roderick 
Hume into the canal, and not caring what the other 
was. 


THE RP.GEKTS' EXAM/XAT/OA^ 

“ Then this is the first : that you never mention to 
anybody or at any time what has just happened,” 

And before her uncle could protest, she added, — 

“ And this is the second : that you let me go home 
to-morrow and forever.” 

Then she put her hand over his mouth, and kissed 
him again and again, and cried over him ; and then 
went to her room to pack her trunks. 

That night Mrs. Marvin was roused by the violent 
movements of her husband, who was pummelling his 
pillow, and seemed to be in a nightmare. She awa- 
kened him, and he gazed about for a moment in 
sleepy disgust. 

“ I thought I had that d d Hume by the 

throat,” he muttered. 

It was the first time he ever spelled a word with 
a dash, and the last time he ever referred to the Re- 
gents’ Examination. 

The morning express carried away a closely veiled 
young woman, who looked back as the train rolled 
out of Norway, and wept softly during most of her 
journey. 


ODE Rick HUME 


I§0 


CHAPTER XV. 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 



HE rest of the term was barren of incident. 


1 Roderick suppressed all allusion to Miss Lowe, 
whose place was filled by a new teacher, and who soon 
dropped out of the talk and out of the thought of the 
school. He did his own work faithfully, but with less 
interest. Sometimes his face would light up in reci- 
tation as of old, but oftener he taught with patient, 
kind, but unmoved devotion to duty. To the more 
sentimental of the girls he became an object of ten- 
der interest ; but the rest of the school missed the 
hearty zeal with which he had entered into all their 
projects, in-doors or out. It was a relief to every- 
body when the term closed. 

Roderick drew his salary in the form of a draft on 
New York, and left for the city at once. During his 
college course he had incurred a debt of twelve 
hundred dollars, for which he had given three notes 
of four hundred dollars each, payable in successive 
years, beginning with the third after graduation. So 
he now owed eight hundred dollars and interest, and 
was expected to take up one of the four hundred dol- 


AN UNLUCKY FAC A 77 ON l8l 

lar notes. He might have taken up one of these the 
year before ; but he had always made it a habit to 
keep ready money on hand, and until he was settled 
he had thought it best to store five hundred dollars 
in the savings-bank. Now that he was secure in a 
good position, however, he resolved to draw out the 
money, put it with his salary, go to Middletown, and 
clear up the whole debt at once. This was to be 
the chief task of his vacation, and he anticipated in it 
a very pleasing one. 

He spent Sunday in the city, and devoted three 
or four days to the bookstores, making purchases at 
most of the second-hand shops, so familiar to lovers 
of rare volumes. On Friday he drew his money 
from the savings-bank, and prepared to take the after- 
noon boat. 

He was staying at the Astor House, and having 
an hour or two to spare, he dropped into the billiard- 
room. It may surprise the reader to learn that he 
was an experienced and skilful player, but such was 
the fact. He was fond of all games, and from his 
first insight into the mysteries of billiards had be- 
come passionately fond of the cue. Many a night 
did he click the balls into wee small hours at the 
McDonough House, and he once played fifty games 
upon a stretch, pausing not even for further food 
than a sandwich and a glass of ale. 

Since he left college, however, he had played 
y^ry little. He h^d been a teacher in places wher^ 


RODERICK HUME 


1S2 

to do so would have been to set a bad example. In 
fact, he had kept away from the game so long that 
he felt free from the enticement it once exerted over 
him ; and on this occasion he resolved to play a game 
or two more to recall his former enthusiasm than 
because he cared to play now. 

He walked up to the room -keeper, a young fellow 
in a cropped red head and a cardigan jacket, and 
asked for a partner. The rooniTeeper took him to 
a corner table where a man was practising, arranged 
for a game of French carom, and set the balls. 

Roderick’s opponent was dressed in carefully kept 
but rather seedy black, and conducted himself with 
the dignity and careful courtesy of one who wishes 
to be considered a gentleman. He did not play very 
well, not seeming to understand the manipulation 
of the balls ; but he tried hard, and played with 
a straightforward, earnest persistence that pleased 
Roderick very much. In fact, Roderick rather held 
in his game, and neglected opportunities for brilliant 
draws and masses, in order not to discourage this hon- 
est, well-meaning gentleman in black. Perhaps it was 
for, this reason that the honest, well-meaning gentle- 
man in black beat him, not only the first game, but 
the second and third and fourth. Roderick saw by 
his watch that the fifth must be the last, so he 
acknowledged that he had been playing off, and 
announced his intention of showing what he could 
do, In the first run he got in twp or three hand- 


AN UNLUCKY FA CAT/ON 


183 


some shots, and looked for dismay on the face of his 
antagonist. But this antagonist was one of the 
dogged, self-confident sort who are not readily dis- 
mayed. He acknowledged that Roderick’s shots 
were very pretty, but after all, they counted only 
one apiece. As for him, give him a plain, straight- 
forward game, and he would put it against all this 
finessing and nursing. Roderick was rather pro- 
voked at the man’s stupid conceit, the more so 
because, by an unusual succession of easy shots, the 
man ran the game out and beat him again. The 
man even taunted Roderick, counted up the number 
of points Roderick had made, and after a little cal- 
culation offered to discount him. 

This was too much to endure. Roderick resolved 
to take the train instead, of the boat, and stay long 
enough to teach this silly man a lesson. Indeed, 
when the man, in his pride, offered to play for a dol- 
lar a game, Roderick consented to that, thinking he 
could thus impress the lesson more forcibly, and in- 
tending, after taking enough of his money to pay for 
the games, to give him back the rest, and advise him 
hereafter to be more modest. 

And yet, provoking as it seemed, the man still 
beat him. It was marvellous how luck stayed by 
him. He would plunge away at a plain carom, and 
the balls would scatter only to return and set up an- 
other carom. And when he missed there was sure 
to be nothing left for Roderick. If Roderick could 


184 


RODERICK HUME 


only have got the balls together and have been en- 
couraged by a little run, he could have gone in and 
won. But he had no chance. It seemed as if the 
classical gentleman in black were in league with this 
thick-headed but lucky gentleman in black who was 
making six or eight at every turn. 

After three or four games Roderick took off his 
coat and cuffs, and settled down to work. He knew 
he could beat this man, and he would, if it took all 
summer. So he paid out dollar after dollar, and be- 
gan every game and every shot with increasing ten- 
sion of will. When Roderick had lost ten games and 
ten dollars, the man in black said he was tired, and 
proposed to stop. Roderick protested. Finally the 
man offered to pHy one more game of fifty points 
for twenty dollars. Roderick had been slowly but 
steadily gaining upon his opponent, and he felt con- 
fident that he could win. So he drew out his roll of 
six hundred dollars in bills and laid down a double X. 
The man covered it, and the game began. 

Roderick won the lead, but failed to score. Then 
his opponent smiled viciously, brought the balls into 
the corner at the first shot, and by a succession of 
draws and follows and masses, no one of which he 
had before seemed to know anything about, he ran 
forty-two, ending with a safety shot. 

Roderick took in the situation at once. This 
fdignified, respectful, but rather stupid person was a 
keen sharper, who had taken him in, and was at last 
showing his hand, 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 1 85 

“ But I will be game to the last,” said Roderick to 
himself. 

The red ball lay close in the corner ; the white 
hugged the cushion a third way up the table ; his 
own was a foot below the white and four or five 
inches from the cushion. He might play for safety 
himself, but from the skill his opponent had just 
shown he thought it would be useless. He might 
play upon the white down the cushion and back, or 
around, but the chance of counting would be small. 
There was one other shot ; a difficult one, but sure, 
if he made it, not only to count, but to bring the 
balls together. He examined his leather, chalked it, 
ran the cue once or twice through his fingers, and 
then with a quick twist drew his own ball down the 
cushion to the red, and sent the white around the 
table into the same corner. His ball barely reached 
the red and froze to it, but the applause of the spec- 
tators, who stamped heartily, shook the table enough 
to loosen it. By one or two careful shots Roderick 
jawed the balls, a position both players had already 
agreed to allow, and easily ran out the game. As 
he took the forty dollars, he remarked, “ Gentlemen, 
that is the first time I ever played billiards for 
money, and it will be the last.” 

“ That shot of yours was magnificent,” remarked 
his opponent, chewing his thin black mustache. 

“And made just when you wanted it,” added th§ 
red-headed room-keeper. 


RODERICK HUME 


1 86 

“ And not many men would have dared to tiy it 
under the circumstances,” chimed in a third, who 
was the setting for a diamond pin. 

“Oh! I don’t play much of a game, gentlemen,” 
remarked Roderick, as he put on his coat ; “ but I do 
rather pride myself on my nerve.” 

Considering the situation, that was not much of a 
brag ; but it cost Roderick a thousand dollars. 

The gentleman in black drew him toward one of 
the windows at the end of the room. 

“ Do you live in the city } ” he asked. 

“No,” replied Roderick. 

“ Are you going to be here long } ” 

“ No ; I am going away to-night.” 

“ Oh ! well ; no matter then.” And the man 
turned away. 

Roderick’s curiosity was aroused. He knew this 
man was a sharper, and one of a gang of sharpers 
which included the room-keeper. He knew that he 
had shown a roll of bills to this sharper, and that 
he had just won forty dollars of what, except for a 
stroke of luck in jawing the balls, would have been 
the sharper’s money. So he felt confident that the 
sharper was trying to pluck him. 

Now Roderick had never been plucked. He had 
read all about it, — knew every trick of the trade he 
flattered himself, — but had never experienced or seen 
an attempt of the sort. This sharper had tried to 
take him in on billiards ; why should he not take in 


AX UX LUCKY VACATIOX 


187 


the sharper by pretending to be green ? Roderick 
winked with his mind’s eye, and said to the sharper, 
who had turned on his heel, — 

“ Why, my going isn’t absolutely necessary. But 
you could hardly expect me to wait over for the sake 
of playing any more billiards with you. I must con- 
fess that you played your game well. Almost any- 
body can nurse balls by keeping them together, but 
it takes quite a player to nurse balls by keeping them 
apart.” 

“ Oh, it wasn’t about that ! ” replied the sharper 
gloomily ; “ of what use is skill against luck that 
jaws the balls on the final game.^ But it wasn’t 
billiards I wanted to see you about.” 

‘‘No, I’ll warrant not,” said Roderick to himself. 
Then aloud, — 

“ Well, what is it } ” 

“ It’s a matter I am not at liberty to speak of till 
I consult others who are interested. We have been 
looking for a man of good appearance, quick wit, and 
steady nerve for a little matter that involves some 
risk and will pay big. It struck me that you might 
do. But I don’t know. We have to go carefully, 
for a good many thousands are involved, and the 
least treachery or cowardice would ruin us.” 

“Oh, ho!” chuckled Roderick inwardly; “bigger 
game than I thought. I must see this out.” Then 
to the sharper : 

Of course you must judge for yourself whether 


i88 


RODERICK HUME 


you want me enough to give me a chance to see 
whether I want you." 

“Well, here, I’ll tell you this much," said the 
sharper, in an impulsive burst of confidence. “ I be- 
long to those who live by their wits, — of course you 
have seen that, ^ and I am connected with a party 
that do this thing on a large scale. I could get a 
hundred dollars for introducing you at a certain -es- 
tablishment up-town, but of course you aren’t that 
kind. Anybody that takes you for green will get 
his fingers burned, as I did this afternoon." And he 
smiled ruefully. “ Now the point is, there hasn’t 
been a fair divvy. Those of us who have done most 
of the work have got the least of the spoils, — a mere 
pittance, in fact, — not five hundred dollars a month. 
So two of us have combined against the others to 
clean out the whole establishment by introducing a 
new man as a greenhorn and giving him the inside 
points. Of course this man must not look like a 
professional — in fact, he must not be one, for we 
fellows know one another at a glance. At the same 
time he must be square-toed, so as to divide with us 
afterward, and must have nerve enough to play his 
part well and hold his own in an emergency. It’s 
hard to find such a man, but I think you would do. 
That’s all I can say now. If you will stay over and 
let my partner see you, and if he thinks of you as 
I do, we may risk it on you. And then won’t I 
??cjueez^ tliQ d -d , skinflint,” added the sharper ix\ 


AN VN LUCKY VACATION 


89 


soliloquy, compressing his lips. “There are thou- 
sands in it, thousands.” And he rubbed imaginary 
greenbacks in his hands. Then he recalled himself, 
and said to Roderick abruptly, — 

“ Do you want to try it, supposing we let you 
come in } ” 

“Oh! I presume so,” answered Roderick; “of 
course I can’t decide till I know the particulars.” 

“ d'hen be at Chris O’Connor’s at one o’clock to- 
morrow, and play a game of billiards with me. My 
partner will come in while we are there and look you 
over. If he is suited, he will tip me a wink, and we 
will go out and meet him. If he thinks you won’t 
do, you’ll never know which he was of all the men 
who entered the room.” 

“ All right,” said Roderick, going in to supper. 
It was worth while staying over to see what a com- 
plicated thing this would turn out to be. He was 
not quite certain whether the story told him was true. 
At any rate the test was easy. If it was really 
his services they wanted, they would not ask for his 
money. So he smiled softly as he sealed up the 
whole amount, except ten dollars, and deposited it 
in the hotel safe. 

He met his new acquaintance next day, and played 
as nonchalantly as possible, wondering which of all 
who stood by the table was the mysterious partner. 
He was presently informed that the inspection had 
proved satisfactory and that the interview was to 


\q6 r:OD ERICK HOME 

take place. So he sallied out with his strange com- 
panion, and at exactly twenty minutes past four was 
brought by him to an appointment at a quiet corner, 
where a man had just been left by a cab that drove 
rapidly off. 

The new-comer advertised himself a gambler in 
every feature of dress and manner. He was heavily 
built, with beard close-cropped over powerful jaws, a 
diamond pin, a massive watch-chain, and attire every 
article of which seemed to be brand new. He had a 
deep, bullying voice, and seemed distrustful of Rod- 
erick. 

“ We’re putting our lives into your hands on this 
thing,” he said ; “ and, by God, if you give us away. 
I’ll have your heart’s blood.” 

In the middle of the afternoon, on a fashionable 
street, two blocks from Broadway, this did not scare 
Roderick particularly. 

“ I didn’t know we had anything to do with heart’s 
blood,” he said ; “ I thought it was cash we were 
after.” 

“He is right,” interposed the first sharper, who 
now introduced himself as Mr. Munson, and his 
friend as Mr. Burke — “Billy Burke, we always call 
him ; a little rough to strangers, but he always 
stands by his friends,” added Mr. Munson in a con- 
ciliatory manner. 

It was so hard to persuade Billy to accept Rod- 
erick’s services, that Roderick began to believe there 


AN UNLUCNY VACATION 191 

really was an opportunity here, and to hope that he 
might at least have the option of seizing it. So he 
was relieved when, as the cab dashed up again, and 
Billy entered it, he said to Mr. Munson, — 

“ Well, have your own way. It’s a big thing for 
him and a big risk to us, but I will give in to you 
and try him.” 

‘‘Now,” said Mr. Munson, “we will go back to 
the Astor House and you shall know the full par- 
ticulars.” 

They went to' Roderick’s room, locked the door, 
drew the curtains, examined the ventilator, and then 
discussed the plot. 

Billy Burke was the dealer at an up-town faro-bank. 
The room had a good run of custom, and cleared over 
a hundred thousand dollars the year before. But the 
man who owned it was a hog. He always wrangled 
when called upon to pay up for roping in greenhorns, 
and even to Billy Burke he paid only twelve hundred 
dollars a year salary. Of course Billy made it up by 
short-card poker and other outside games when the 
guests were tired of faro ; but even on these earn- 
ings he had to pay a percentage to the owner of the 
room. So Billy and Munson were going back on 
the old man, by blank. Billy could do anything he 
wanted to with the cards, and he was going to bring 
in an outsider with plenty of money, indicate to him 
how to play, and break the bank. 

Did Roderick understand the game of faro } No ? 


kODERlCK nUME 


19^ 

“ Well, it is very simple. The thirteen cards of 
a suit are inserted in the table, and the players lay 
their money or checks upon any of these cards that 
they choose. The pack is held face up in a silver 
box, and the cards are pulled from the top. The top 
card, of course, is in sight while the players place 
their bets. After the checks are all laid down, the 
top card is pulled off and laid beside the box. The 
card under it is also pulled off and laid down, and this 
card loses ; that is to say, the bank wins all checks 
which have been laid on this card. When this card 
is pulled off, it shows another on top. This other 
wins ; that is to say, the bank gives to the player as 
much as he had laid on this card. Do you see t 

“ Well, now, when this has been done twenty-four 
times there are only three cards left in the pack, 
covered up, of course, by the twenty-fourth winning 
card. The dealer always calls off these three cards, 
and you may bet not only on which will win, but on 
the order in which they come. Thus, if the three are 
king, 4, 2, either one of the three may win, and one 
will lose, while money bet on the third neither wins 
nor loses. But the order may be king, 4, 2 ; or king, 
2, 4 ; or 4, king, 2 ; or 4, 2, king ; or 2, king, 4 ; or 2, 
4, king. If you bet on the order and get it right, you 
win four times the amount you lay down. 

“ Do you see ? 

“ Well, now, that is just where Billy comes in. It 
is easy enough for him to shuffle so as to know what 


AN- UNLUCKY VACA770N 


193 


the two bottom cards are. Suppose he sees that the 
lowest is a 2, and the one above is a 4 ; then he 
knows the order is king, 4, 2. He has to call them 
off anyway, and his arrangement is to call them in a 
certain order, so that you will know certainly \Yhat 
the order is. You are to bet rather recklessly, but 
not heavily, through the first twenty-four hands, on 
which you will come out about even probably ; but 
you are to lay yourself out on the last, betting heavily 
on the order of the last three cards ; and for every 
dollar you put down you rake in four. Neat, isn’t it 

“ Now, we want you to ‘ arrive ’ at an up-town 
hotel, with plenty of money, which you spend freely. 
You will make yourself rather conspicuous, in fact. 
A good many professional men will get after you, 
among whom you will take most kindly to me. I 
shall introduce you as a country pigeon at our faro- 
bank. You will bet heavily, sometimes winning, 
sometimes losing, on the regular game, but with a 
wonderful run of luck in calling the turn. The more 
you win, the more heavily you will bet, till the bank 
gives up. That won’t be under twenty thousand 
dollars, and we hope the old man will run it up to 
thirty. He keeps the money-drawer, and will watch 
you close ; but I think you’ve got the nerve to stand 
it. That’s why we want you. 

“ Now, as to the arrangements. Billy and I will 
pay all your expenses, and furnish you one thousand 
dollars in cash to bet with. When the thing is done, 


194 RODERICK HUME 

and you come off with say twenty thousand dollars, 
we meet to divide. You first pay back the thousand 
dollars, and another thousand for the use of it. Then 
we divide the rest by three. Is that square } And 
is it a go ? ” 

“ I want time to think of it,” said Roderick ; and 
he arranged to meet Mr. Munson at the Grand Cen- 
tral Hotel the next afternoon at five. 

Roderick was no longer suspicious. Mr. Munson’s 
offer to advance him the thousand dollars to bet with, 
and to pay all his expenses, convinced him that the 
opportunity was genuine, and that he was indebted 
for it to the remarkable nerve he had shown in the 
Astor House billiard-room. He imagined himself 
playing against the bank, defying suspicion by his 
imperturbable coolness, and protecting himself and 
his winnings, if violence was threatened. 

“ I a7n the right man for them,” he said to him- 
self! “ It is wonderful how these sharpers read 
character.” 

Now came the struggle with his conscience. 

Two months before there would have been no 
struggle. The force of right principles and the 
weight of right habits made a momentum which 
would have carried him over this temptation without 
effort. 

What have you got out of it, anyway ? ” asked of 
him, on the night before Commencement, a former 
schoolmate who had gone into business. 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 


i95 


“ Principally this,” replied Roderick : “ the power 
to lay out my course and to follow it. I am master 
of myself.” 

In the main this was true. He aimed high, worked 
hard, profited by mistakes, and valued above the 
opinion of all others his own honest self-respect. 
He had re.solved that there should be no limit to his 
usefulness except his native capacity. For three or 
four years he had been able at the end of almost 
every week and month to look back and say he was a 
stronger and better man than at the beginning. He 
had carried through everything he had undertaken. 
It was not strange that he should consider his habits 
fixed, and thajt he should continue his plans far into 
the future. 

Alas ! good habits, like other capital, may be swept 
away. He had intrusted himself and all that he had 
to Mary Lowe ; and she had defaulted. 

The rock of his ambition had been the belief that 
he had health, strength, and ability to attain all 
reasonable blessings, if he strove for them steadily. 
Among these blessings of the future had been : — 

‘ ‘ That not impossible she 

That shall command my heart and me.” 

The “ not impossible ” had come, before he looked 
for her, had surpassed his fondest dreams of woman- 
hood, had loved him, and had deceived him. She 
could have no successor. All romance had departed 


196 


'RODERICK KUM'jk 


out of his life. There was less to live for, and he 
cared less to live well. The force of right purpose 
in him was weakened. He began to feel a cynical 
distrust of himself and of others, and of life. He 
read Cherbuliez and Turgenieff. 

“ Better Bazarof than Babolain,” he said ; and un- 
consciously he began to imitate. But he got no 
farther toward nihilism than to resolve to live for 
himself and for the now. Many get that far without 
reading Turgenieff. 

It was in this restless, uneasy condition that he 
encountered the tempting proposal of Mr. Munson. 
It ivas a tempting proposal. Here was six, seven, 
eight thousand dollars to be picked up for the asking, 
without risk, and by beating a thief with his own 
weapons. With six thousand dollars Roderick could 
leave the tiresome village of Norway and the thank- 
less labor of teaching ; he could cross the ocean, and 
plunge into his long-anticipated studies in Germany. 
There he could forget his vanished dreams in his 
search for the real. Was there not something provi- 
dential in thus making him an instrument to punish 
the wicked } 

You see, he anticipated the overcharged Dutchman, 
who comforted his fellow-victim by remarking, — 

“ Hans, Hans, Gott haf punished dot man Del- 
monico. I haf mine pocket full mit shpoons.” 

But Roderick had too clear a head to yield long 
to sophistry. Before Sunday noon he had decided 


AN UNLUCKY FA CAT/ON 


197 


to take the night train for Middfetown. At three 
o’clock, he went to hear Dr. John Hall, and when he 
came out of the church he wondered that he could 
ever have been tempted. 

He felt infinitely relieved. How foolish it was 
even to project a dishonest action. 

“ Let me never have cause to shrink from any 
man’s eye,” said Roderick to himself proudly, as he 
stepped upon a Broadway car. It was one of his 
principles never to miss an appointment ; and he 
would meet Mr. Munson at five o’clock, though only 
curtly to decline the offered opportunity. 

In a way that was then and afterward inexplicable 
to Roderick, Mr. Munson gave him no opportunity to 
decline. He assumed that Roderick consented, and 
without permitting him to protest, proceeded at once 
to insist upon certain details as to the distribution of 
the money. Billy Burke had estimated that the bank 
would break at about twenty-five thousand dollars, 
and Mr. Munson wanted Roderick to promise to stop 
betting as soon as his net winnings reached that 
amount. 

“That will give us just eight thousand apiece,” 
said Mr. Munson. 

In spite of himself Roderick was fascinated again. 
The eight thousand devils entered his heart, and 
finding it clean and sweet from the afternoon’s dis- 
course they took permanent lodgings. Thenceforth 
hQ was more eager than Mr. Munson, 


198 


RODERICK HUME 


It was arranged that he should “arrive” at the 
Fifth Avenue Hotel early on Monday morning, that 
he should drop into the bank for practice in the after- 
noon, and that the grand haul should be made in the 
evening. 

“ Shall I advance you a hundred dollars for hotel 
expenses } ” asked Mr. Munson ; “ you must be lib- 
eral, to keep up your character.” 

“ Oh, no ! ” said Roderick ; “ I have plenty of 
money.” 

He spent that evening with Mr. Munson, visiting 
half a dozen gambling-houses, in order to take lessons 
how to act when he began to win. He went to bed 
tired, and read himself to sleep with the Siinday 
Mercury. 

The next morning he removed the marked canvas 
cover from his trunk, paid his bill, and took a carriage 
to the Fifth Avenne Hotel. 

“ W. Goodiich, Kalamazoo^ MicJi.G he wrote on 
the register, and ordered the trunk sent to his room. 
Arrived there, he gave the porter a dollar bill. 

Mike looked at it, turned it over, looked at him, 
and said, — 

“ Begorra, I wish all the gentlemen ’ud come down 
like that.” And when he got back to the lobby he 
asked of his fellow-servants, — 

“ Did ye see the feller ’t I took up a thrunk for } ” 

They had seen him. 

“ And f’what d’ yez think he give me ? ” 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 


199 


Five cents was the average estimate. 

“ Now jest sprid yer eyes over that,” and Mike 
showed the dollar ; “ the more gintlemen I see, the 
more I can’t tell ’em when I see ’em, and that’s 
God’s thruth.” 

The news spread, and during his stay Roderick 
was well waited upon. 

When he came down he went into the reading- 
room and looked for Central New York papers. A 
man whom he remembered to have seen lounging 
over the counter and looking at the register after 
Roderick had entered his name, came up with a rush 
and asked, — 

Excuse me, but is this not Mr. Goodrich "i ” 

“ The same,’’ replied Roderick coldly. 

“ Of Kalamazoo, Michigan ” 

» Yes.” 

‘‘And don’t you remember me — Rogers, ‘Judge 
Rogers ’ you heard me called at the party where I 
met you } ” 

“ Where was the party } ” 

“ Oh, you must remember it ! at Mrs. Smith’s ; 
biggest of the season.” 

“ Let us see,” said Roderick reflectively ; “ Mrs. 
Smith who has the large place with a lawn in front, 
between the Burdick House and Shakespeare’s book- 
store } ” 

“ Why, yes, of course ; I wondered how you could 
forget it ! ” 


200 


RODERICK HUME 


“ I suppose because it was so long ago,” replied 
Roderick ; there never was any such house there.” 

Roderick had purposely spoken in a loud tone, 
and when the sharper slunk off, all eyes in the room 
were fixed upon him. One fine-looking gentleman 
moved his chair nearer to Roderick, and conversed 
with him freely and pleasantly about the tricks of 
the great city. He was a prominent Chicago banker, 
and frequently passed through Kalamazoo, of which 
he knew so much that Roderick began to fear de- 
tection, but luckily escaped it. Roderick went in to 
lunch with him, and afterward accompanied him to 
his room. An elegant whist set caught Roderick’s 
eye, which Mr. Vermilye (for so he had introduced 
himself) had bought for his wife. This led to a con- 
versation on the subject, in which Roderick aired 
his newly acquired knowledge of the game, while the 
banker showed himself an expert. 

“ I wish we could play a game,” said Mr. Vermilye, 
“but double-dummy is rather tame. We fellows in 
the Stock Exchange have got in the way of draw- 
poker. Did you ever play that ^ ” 

“ He doesn’t suspect that I have been in the 
army,” said Roderick to himself ; “ I’ll play inno- 
cent.” So he was taught the principles of the game, 
the ante being fixed at a quarter. 

Mr. Vermilye had picked another pack of cards 
out of his trunk, not wishing to soil his wife’s whist 
set. They were star-backs, and Roderick happened 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 


201 


to observe that the card first dealt him had a full star 
in the corner. When he looked at it, he found that 
it was an ace. Then he began to examine, and saw 
at once that the pack was one of the most familiar 
styles of marked cards, being printed so that the 
back showed the value of every one. 

Roderick looked at Mr. Vermilye, at the opened 
trunk, at the travelling-case on the bureau, and 
wondered. If this man was a sharper, who was 
honest } 

Here at least his army experience stood him in 
good stead. He dealt so as to conceal the backs of 
his own cards, and opened his hand by pulling it 
down over his wrist. So he knew every card his 
opponent had, and every card he drew, all the time 
revealing nothing of his own. 

Mr. Vermilye was betting heavily for the first time 
on a hand which Roderick knew contained only 
sevens to his jacks, when there was a knock at the 
door. Roderick called, just as Mr. Munson entered. 

How in blank did you come to call ten dollars on 
a pair of jacks } ” asked Mr. Vermilye. 

“ Because when you take in a greenhorn with 
marked cards, it sometimes happens that he can read 
them as well as you. But keep your money ; I don’t 
want that.” And Roderick withdrew his stakes and 
rose from the table. 

Who the blank are you, anyway } ” asked Mr. 
Munson, after familiarly greeting the detected Mr. 


202 


RODERICK HUME 


Vermilye ; “ a man that takes me in at billiards and 
Sam Loomis at draw-poker must stand high in the 
profession. Own up now, haven’t you been laying 
it over me a little 'i ” 

Roderick disclaimed the honor, but felt rather 
flattered. 

“ I believe I should make things lively if I got into 
this,” he thought. Facilis dece^istis. 

“ Do you ever play faro } ” asked Mr. Munson of 
Roderick, as though the subject had not been men- 
tioned. 

“ I never have,” replied Roderick. 

“ Let’s go over, all three,” said Mr. Munson. 

They crossed the street, and went up a few doors 
to a block nearly opposite the St. James. A discreet 
darkey answered the bell, admitted them, and directed 
them up-stairs to the first floor. 

Billy Burke sat behind the green table dealing. 
Another ugly-looking man sat on his right, guarding 
the money-drawer and exchanging checks. Not more 
than six or seven sat about the table, and they were 
playing lightly. A waiter hovered about, and brought 
whiskey or water whenever either was wanted. No 
other drink was called for. 

Roderick soon got the run of the game, and found 
no difficulty in following his instructions. The key 
word was, — 

“ ABRACADABRA,” 

each letter representing a deal. When the deal was 


AiV UNLUCKY FA CAT/ON 


203 


A, as on the first hand after Roderick entered, the 
dealer called the last three cards in their regular or- 
der ; when it was B, he called the second card first ; 
when it was C, the third card first ; when it was D, 
he reversed them ; when it was R, he called them 
at random, for a blind. Roderick stayed till he had 
gone through the word twice without a mistake. 
On the eighteen hands he might have won any 
amount of money he had dared to. He was impa- 
tient for evening and work. 

The thousand dollars was to be brought him at 
seven o’clock. A few minutes before that Mr. Mun- 
son came rushing in, breathless and in despair. 

“The game is up!'’ he exclaimed; “Billy and the 
old man got into a row after we left, and the old 
man swears he shall never deal another card for him. 
So that ends it.” 

“ Can nothing be done ? ” asked Roderick, dis- 
mayed to see vanish not only his eight thousand 
dollars, but the hundred that he had lost that after- 
noon in betting without any system, in order to seem 
green. 

“There’s only one thing,” said Mr. Munson, “and 
Billy won’t agree to that. The old man is going to 
put in his son Johnny for dealer, a young fellow 
twenty years old. Now, Johnny is in with us in this 
thing, and can handle cards even better than Billy. 
I say he can do this thing just as well as Billy him- 
self. But Billy won’t trust him.” 


204 


RODERICK HUME 


“ Then, why can’t we three go in, and leave Billy 
out?” asked Roderick eagerly. He had lost a hun- 
dred dollars, and he thirsted to get it back. 

“ But you see it’s Billy that advances the money,” 
replied Mr. Munson impatiently ; “ I haven’t got fifty 
dollars to my name, and I have promised fifteen hun- 
dred for to-morrow out of the eight thousand I was 
to get to-night.” 

“Are you sure Johnny can do the thing right?” 
asked Roderick, after a pause. 

“ Oh, yes ! Why he is down-stairs now ; let me 
bring him up.” 

Johnny was a pale, dissipated, beardless youth, 
dressed in well-worn black, and evidently a prodigal 
son. But he handled cards like a magician, and dem- 
onstrated that he understood the secret arrange- 
ment perfectly. 

“ I will tell you what I will do,” said Roderick ; 
“ I have five hundred dollars in bills and a draft for 
as much more, and I will put up the money myself.” 

But against this both Mr. Munson and Johnny 
protested. In fact, they utterly refused to entertain 
the proposition. Roderick was perplexed. 

“ Why, you see,” said Mr. Munson, “ we should 
have no hold on you. If you bet with our money, 
we can force you to divide easily enough ; but if you 
bet with your own, what assurance have we that you 
will turn over any of the twenty-five thousand to 
us?” 


An Xjn'lucky V AC a fid n 


205 


Roderick had great difficulty in overcoming this 
objection, but finally succeeded. Johnny went over 
to open the bank, and about nine o’clock Roderick 
and Mr. Munson entered. 

Roderick sat down, showed his money, and boasted 
that he would win back the hundred dollars he lost in 
the afternoon, or scatter his pile. He put down his 
money freely, and reserved himself for the call. He 
bet two hundred dollars, and prepared to rake in 
eight hundred. To his dismay the combination came 
out wrong, and he lost the two hundred. Johnny 
seemed to be disgusted at his own carelessness, and 
indicated to Roderick as far as he was able that he 
wouldn’t make a mistake again. So at the next call 
Roderick put on another two hundred, all he had 
left. That, too, he lost. Johnny was so nervous 
that in shuffling he spilt the cards upon the floor. 
His father reprimanded him sharply. The boy called 
for a glass of whiskey, and drank it at a draught. 

Roderick rose from the table and left the room. 
He had lost six hundred dollars, and had only his 
draft left. Mr. Munson swore soundly at Johnny for 
getting drunk. 

“ He knew the combination well enough, but he is 
too drunk to stand up,” he said. “ The old man will 
have to call Billy in before the night is over. Mean- 
while, get your draft cashed, and we will straighten 
this thing out.” 

But here was a difficulty. The draft was payable 


2o6 


RODERICK HUMk 


to the order of Roderick Hume ; how could D. W. 
Goodrich get it cashed ? Mr. Munson undertook 
to arrange that, and conducted him to another faro- 
bank, where he got the money without difficulty. 
Then Mr. Munson went over to see if Billy had been 
recalled. 

About eleven o’clock he returned in high spirits, 
saying that Billy was in the chair, the old man was 
drunk, there were only two or three players, and now 
was the time. 

“ Strike big,” said he, and close up the thing 
before the old man realizes it.” 

Roderick struck big, and lost. He grew suspi- 
cious. He put on half his pile next time, and lost. 
He slipped his hand around to his hip pocket, where 
there was a little revolver, and felt an impulse to put 
a bullet through Billy Burke’s thick skull. He passed 
the third deal. The fourth should have been A, and 
the cards called in their order. 

“ Are you ready, gentlemen } ” said Billy Burke 
“ 9, 4, queen ; make your bets, gentlemen.” 

“ Whatever it is,” said Roderick to himself, “ it 
is not 9, 4, queen. Undoubtedly the four loses, or 
he wouldn’t try to make me believe it wins. That 
makes the order either 4, 9, or 4, queen, and gives 
me one chance in two, on a one in four bet.” 

Once more he congratulated himself on his nerve, 
even in this den of thieves, and he put all his checks 
on 4, queen, 9. 


UNLUCKy VACATION 26f 

“ 9, 4, queen ; 9, 4, queen,” repeated Billy Burke, 
looking at him sharply. 

This convinced Roderick that he had outwitted the 
gang once more, and he replied, — 

“ I believe I am betting this money myself.” 

“ Are your bets all made, gentlemen } ” asked 
Billy Burke. 

He pulled off the top card and showed a 4. 

“Just as I expected,” chuckled Roderick. 

Then he pulled off the 4 and showed a 9. 

Roderick rose from his chair, returned to the hotel, 
paid his bill, had his trunk taken to the depot, bought 
a ticket for Norway, and had eighty-three cents left. 
He did not take a sleeping-car. 

“ Mr. Dormouse,” said Roderick, the next day, “ I 
want to borrow four hundred dollars.” 

“ That is a good deal of money,” remarked Mr. 
Dormouse coolly, holding the edge of a board to his 
eye to see if it had been planed straight. 

“ I know it is a good deal of money, but I want it.” 

“ Were you intending to tell why you want it .^ ” 

“ No, sir ; I am ashamed to tell the real reason, 
and I should be more ashamed to lie about it.” 

“ Have you any security to give ” 

“No, sir, except as my salary comes due here.” 

“ But this is only a ten weeks’ term ; your salary 
won’t cover it.” 

“ I know it. I suppose half of it will have to go 
over till fall.” 


RODERICK HOM^ 


'20S 


“ But how do you know you will be here in the 
fall ? ” 

“ Why, I expect to stay my year out, of course.” 

“Our year begins in September, not in January, 
and the regular election is held about the first of 
July. Besides, it is among our regulations that all 
teachers are hired at the pleasure of the board.” 

“ But do you mean to imply that the board want 
to get rid of me ^ ” asked Roderick, flushing. 

“ Not at all. I only wanted to remind you that 
the fact that you expect to stay would not be busi- 
ness security.” 

“ But how does the board stand ? ” Roderick 
asked this question hesita^ngly. He had supposed 
that his success entitled him to feel secure of his 
position. 

“ The board stands four to four, with John Blarston 
in the middle. So far he has always voted with you. 
He tells the story himself of your first interview, and 

adds that you aren’t so big a d d fool as you look 

as if you were. I rather think you will hold him, 
if nothing turns up. But Marvin is dead-set against 
you, of course, and will fight you tooth and nail. 
Election comes next month, and we may get rid of 
Abrahams. Tom Baker is sure to be re-elected, and 
Domite is against you anyway, so that you can’t 
lose anything and may gain a man. On the whole, 
I think you will pull through. The scholars like 
you.” 


AN UNLUCKY VACATION 


2O9 


If my position is so insecure, I can't ask any one 
to lend me money,” said Roderick ; “ I am sorry, for 
I need it ; ” and he turned away. 

“ How were you expecting to borrow it ” asked 
Mr. Dormouse ; “ on an indorsed note at the 

bank } ” 

“ Hardly,” replied Roderick ; “ I didn’t suppose my 
name would count for anything there, as I have no 
property.” 

“ Then if the bank, which makes a business of 
loaning money, will not risk it, how can you expect 
an individual to do it .^ ” 

“ I suppose I should have to pay extra interest.” 

“ How much would you be willing to pay } ” 

“ Almost anything,” said Roderick. “ I will pay 
ten per cent for the use of four hundred dollars six 
months ; I must have it.” 

“Mr. Hume,” said Jim Dormouse, fitting the pine 
case to a child’s coffin, “ I am older than you are, 
and I want to warn you against borrowing money on 
high interest. A good many do it, and most of them 
are ruined by it. Always keep your credit where you 
can borrow at the market rate.” 

“ But, Mr. Dormouse,” said Roderick, “ I am not 
borrowing this money to speculate ; I am borrowing it 
to pay a debt of honor. Only a most accursed act of 
folly makes it necessary for me to borrow, and the 
circumstances are not likely to be repeated. What 
has been can’t be helped. I am where I am, and 


RODERICK HUME 


5lO 

must get out of it as best I can. A little extra inter- 
est is the least of what it will cost me to get back 
where I was at the beginning of vacation,” 

There was pain in Roderick’s voice, and Mr. Dor- 
mouse did not care to prolong the conversation. 

“ Mr. Hume,” he said, as he screwed on the cover 
to the coffin-case, “ I see that you are in trouble, and 
are trying honestly to get out of it. Your note 
would have no great business value, but I think that 
your word is worth four hundred dollars. If you will 
come here at five o’clock this afternoon, I will give 
you that amount, and you can pay me when you are 
able to do so, with interest at the rate of seven per 
cent, on condition,” he added with a frown, as Rod- 
erick was about to express his gratitude, “that we 
don’t have any talk about it. This coffin is promised 
at eleven o’clock, and it hinders me to gabble.” 


BLARSTON- 




CHAPTER XVI. 

VIC BLARSTON 


HUME.’ 


Roderick saw Victoria Blarston standing at 
the threshold of his room. He rose and handed 
her a chair. It was his habit to treat his older 
scholars with the deference due to young ladies, 
that he might expect of them with more assurance 
the behavior due from young ladies. 

“ Mr. Hume,” said Victoria, “ I have not yet apolo- 
gized to you for that stolen essay.” 

Her cheeks burned, and the words came hard ; but 
they came distinct. 

Do you wish to apologize now } ” asked Rod- 
erick. 

“ I do. You punished me publicly and severely. 
I am glad of that. But I wish you could forgive me. 
Of course I cannot ask you to forget it.” 

Perhaps I can do better by you than to forget 
it,” said Roderick, more kindly than he had ever 
addressed her ; “ we all do wrong things ; we shall 
be fully and freely forgiven if we do not persist in 
doing them.” 


215 


kODERiCk HUME 


“ You thought I persisted that day because I 
didn’t cry?” Victoria said this inquiringly, with just 
a touch of scorn. 

“ I feared that you did.” 

“ O Mr. Hume,” and now the tears gushed freely, 
“ I hated myself ! When father came over, and 
offered me his arm, and said, ‘ I was never so proud 
of you in my life, Vic,’ I would have given the world 
to hide my face that instant in my grave. But I 
could not show it. Father would have despised me. 
Mr. Hume, how can I make you believe that I had 
never before thought it really wrong to steal com- 
positions ? Even getting a prize on one of them 
seemed to me what father would call a keen business 
transaction.” 

“ It was keen enough to deceive me,” said Roder- 
ick, feeling impelled to a little confession of his own ; 
“ I would not believe that it was copied till the book 
was shown me.” 

“ Yes ; I knew that.” As she said this, a phos- 
phorescent gleam shot from her eyes. Such a gleam 
one sees in the eyes of a kitten when it turns upon 
a worrying dog and spits at him. But Roderick saw 
nothing of this. His eyes were busy with the past, 
as they always were when he thought of Mary Lowe. 

“ Was it simply detection which showed you it was 
wrong. Miss Blarston ? ” 

“ Oh, no ; not that ! Professor Cobb used to find 
us girls out, and scold us, once in a while ; but we 


V/C BLARSTON 


213 


cared nothing about it. It was a game in which he 
caught us if he could, and we took the chances. But 
you have been so kind to me, and so proud of me, 
that the contempt you showed when I was detected 
withered me. O Mr. Hume, it is awful to be brought 
up as I have been, and to learn only by branding 
what other children drink in with their mother’s 
milk ! ” 

‘‘ But, Miss Blarston ” — 

‘‘No, no ; I must say it all, now that I have begun. 
I have nursed it till it stifles me. 

“ Mr. Hume, I want to be a lady. You cannot 
conceive how absorbingly I desire this, how hard I 
strive for it, how I chafe under the limitations of my 
nature and training. Long ago I noticed that my 
parents were not treated with the deference paid to 
most wealthy people, and when I studied into it I 
found that it was because we are a vulgar family ; 
vulgar not only in habits, — those we might be taught 
to change, while company is about, — but vulgar in 
thought, in ambition, in life. It took me a long 
while to find out why people sniffed their noses 
at us ; it took me longer to convince myself that 
they were right. For how could I, who have been 
born and brought up vulgar, see how vulgar I was, 
except as I learned, little by little, to see myself with 
the eyes of those who are well-bred } And that is 
my misery, Mr. Hume. So fast as I discover my 
faults I try to correct them ; but I have no way to 


214 


RODERICK HUME 


know them except as I see them reflected in scorn 
or contempt on other people’s faces. I look around 
the school, and I see dozens of girls of delicate fea- 
tures, graceful form, and every instinct of ladyhood, 
who are really vulgar and disagreeable, because they 
are too indolent or too selfish to do what they are 
prompted to do from within ; while here am I, who 
would crawl upon my knees to California .if it would 
make me a lady, but who have to learn from with- 
out because every prompting from within is vulgar. 
They can everything, and will nothing ; I would 
everything, but I can nothing.” 

“And this is the girl who ‘never had an original 
thought,’ ” mused Roderick pityingly, as Victoria 
laid her head upon the table and sobbed as if hope 
had left her. “ Ah, Mary Lowe ! Mary Lowe ! you 
were always unjust to her. It was the only fault 
I found in you till that happened.” 

Then he said to her gravely : “ You are unfair to 
yourself, Victoria. If I were asked to point out the 
scholar in all this building who showed the greatest 
possibility for the future, I should turn to you. You 
have health, energy, and mental vigor. You have 
wealth and beauty, two positive elements of power, 
for the right use of which you will be held respon- 
sible. Your will is almost imperious. I saw you 
training your new horse the other day. I have 
known other riders who could keep their seats dur- 
ing all the rearing and plunging ; but I saw in th^ 


VIC BLARSTON 


215 


careless, almost contemptuous, turn of your wrist that 
held the reins a conscious power that will sometimes 
control men. Wherever you go you will be recog- 
nized as a woman of character and influence. I have 
wondered what would be the nature of that character 
and influence. I knew that you were ambitious. I 
wondered whether your aim was high. I feared that 
you looked only to appearances, and that you were 
unscrupulous. I rejoice to find you conscious that 
ladyhood is developed within, not put on from with- 
out. Knowing this, and striving for it earnestly, you 
are already not far from your ideal. 

“ For instance, you must have had difficulties to 
contend with in the use of language, yet you are 
almost the only girl in school from whom I never 
hear a slang word or an ungrammatical expression. 
How have you attained this } ” 

“ By stubborn, hard work,” replied Victoria, who 
had absorbed Roderick’s every word with eager thirst 
for his approval, and whose cheeks mantled with 
gratification. “ I have studied everything I could 
find about it in books. I have watched the language 
of those whom I knew to be cultivated persons, and 
I have read and then tried to rewrite pages from 
standard authors. Besides ” — Victoria paused and 
dropped her eyes. 

“ What is it ” asked Roderick encouragingly. 

“ I fear you don’t like to hear her name,” said Vic, 
Roderick k^Qxily from underneath her long, 


2I6 


RODERICK HUME 


dark lashes ; “ I notice that you never mention it ; 
but really I owe almost all that I have accomplished 
to Miss Lowe. She did not like me, and — and — I 
am sorry for her ; but she taught me a great deal.” 

Victoria had spoken in deep confusion ; yet some- 
how she had managed to note every feature of Roder- 
ick’s countenance. She still marked him as he said 
quietly : — 

“I had wondered who was your model. You 
could not have chosen better.” 

Just then there flashed across Roderick’s mind the 
key to something peculiar about Victoria Blarston’s 
dress. He had never before seen the dress ; and yet 
it had seemed to him familiar, and had suggested 
some dim but rueful impression. Now he recog- 
nized it as a direct copy of that worn by Miss Lowe 
on the morning of the Regents’ Examination. He 
remembered how his eye had lingered upon it admir- 
ingly, when he was called away, and how it had sug- 
gested in his mind a comparison of the instinct of 
woman with the science of man. He had seen her 
but once since, and then — But he must recall his 
thoughts. 

“ Now I see,” said Roderick to himself, “ why Miss 
Mary Lowe did not believe this girl ever had an 
original thought. Victoria, poor child, imitated her 
teacher, because she recognized in her such a lady as 
she longed herself to be. And Mary Lowe, instead 
of feeling touched with sympathy and moved to en- 


V/C B LARS TON 


217 


courage her, grew impatient of being copied, disliked 
her, and avoided her.” 

For the first time Roderick felt bitter toward the 
woman he had loved. A nucleus of grievance against 
her formed in his heart, and around it gathered from 
time to time Roderick’s growing dissatisfaction with 
himself. 

Till I knew her,” he learned to say, “ I was an 
honest, an earnest, and a successful man. Now I 
have lost my grip, both of circumstances and of 
myself.” 

After this first interview Victoria came to Rod- 
erick often for counsel and direction. Now and 
then she alluded again to Miss Lowe, and her eyes 
gleamed under their lids as she noticed that Rod- 
erick heard with more and more impatience the 
name of the woman who had deceived him. 


2i8 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 

OT long after the opening of the term, Rod- 



1 N erick was accosted on his way home from 
school by a man who rushed out of the hotel and 
asked breathlessly, — 

“ Is this Professor Hume ? ” 

“ My name is Hume,” replied Roderick. 

“ I am so lucky to have caught you, as I am ob- 
liged to leave by the five-o’clock train. My name 
is Whittlehe ; and I represent the firm of Gilpinth, 
Burden & Co. of Philadelphia. Can you give me 
five minutes in the parlor of the hotel } ” 

“ Certainly,” said Roderick ; and followed him. 

Mr. Whittlehe nervously unstrapped a bundle of 
books, saying as he did so, — 

“ What text -books are you using here, Mr. 
Hume "i ” 

“ If you have only five minutes, Mr. Whittlehe, 
you had better ask me what text-books we don’t 
use, for I could tell you quicker. Several series have 
been adopted in part, and there is a change of author 
yvith almost QYQxy grade,” 


A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 


219 


“ Then of course you are intending to introduce 
some new and uniform series ? ” 

“ I have thought some of it, but it seemed wise to 
get thoroughly introduced myself before I began to 
introduce new books.” 

“Very prudent, very prudent, Mr. Hume, especially 
as it gives you an opportunity to examine these books 
of ours, which are the freshest, handsomest, and alto- 
gether the best now printed. Here are Womanrow’s 
Readers ; just look at those engravings, and see how 
interesting to children are these continued stories 
running through the first books. Ishmael’s Arith- 
metics too ; aren’t they handsome t So simple too ; 
useless matter left out ; half the time saved. Of 
course you know Professor Ishmael, Principal of the 
Engedi Normal School ? Then here are White’s 
Grammars ; these of course are the standard ; but I 
must hurry, because I want to show you this new 
edition of Rabbit’s Geographies. I wish I had a 
cent for every copy of those books sold. All the 
large cities use them exclusively. They have just 
been readopted in Boston ; and when Smintheus’s tried 
to displace us in Hong-Kong, we not only held them 
in there, but drove out theirs for ours in Yang-tse- 
kiang. Now I mustn’t stop to go into these books 
more than to run through the pages in this hasty 
way, but I am sure you will enjoy studying them. 
I can’t give you this set, for it is the last I have, and 
f am going to stop off at Utica and make Rorn^ 


220 


RODERICK HUME 


howl ; but I will send you a set by express, charges 
paid, and I hope you will like them well enough to 
introduce them at once. Our terms are very liberal 
[here the train whistled, and Mr. Whittlehe started 
on a run, but talked back over his shoulder], and I 
know you will like them. All the best schools ” — 
and his voice died away in the distance. 

“ I wish he had brought another set with him,” 
said Roderick to himself. He thought a bird in 
the hand was worth two in the bush, and doubted 
whether the glib agent would remember his promise. 
He got better acquainted with the glib agent after- 
ward. The glib agent not only sent the books, but 
sent a long letter with them, and sent letters every 
week thereafter for several months ; invited Rod- 
erick to come down to the city and spend a week 
with him ; suggested to Roderick possible vacancies 
in other places at higher salaries, in case he was 
willing to leave Norway ; and, in general, manifested 
an interest in his welfare, and that of the school, 
which was simply amazing. 

“ Considering that there are thirty thousand of us 
teachers in this State,” said Roderick to himself, a 
year or two afterward, as he finished reading Mr. 
Whittlehe’s thirty-ninth letter, just as carefully and 
kindly and skilfully and hopefully written as the 
first, though not a book of his had yet been intro- 
duced, “ it strikes me that we must keep Mr. Whit- 
tlehe tolerably busy.” And he made a place for 


A CJ7AJVGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 221 

White’s Grammars, as being on the whole not much 
worse than the rest, merely as a tribute to Mr. Whit- 
tlehe’s persistence. 

Roderick opened the package from Mr. Whittlehe 
with considerable gratification. They were the first 
books he ever got without paying for them, and were 
certainly worth owning. He examined them care- 
fully, and asked Mr. Dormouse whether it would not 
be well to recommend the geographies to the board. 

“ How do they compare with Smintheus’s t ” asked 
Mr. Dormouse. 

“ I have never seen Smintheus’s,” said Roderick. 

Mr. Dormouse pulled out from under the counter 
a package containing, with other books, Smintheus’s 
Geographies. 

“ These were sent me the other day,” he said ; 
you had better take them and look them over.” 

This suggested to Roderick that it might be well 
to send to all the leading publishers for specimen 
books. Evidently they were freely distributed, and 
Roderick was honest in his intention to examine 
them carefully and impartially. So he got what ad- 
dresses he could find from the advertisements in 
a school journal which had been sent him, and wrote 
to each a letter reading somewhat as follows : — 

“ Norway, N.Y., April 20, 1875. 

Messrs. 

Gentlemen, — As we are proposing to adopt a uniform 
series of text-books for our public schools, we would suggest 


225 


RODERICK IIUME 


that you send us whatever books on your list you desire to 
have examined. They may be sent at our expense, and will 
be returned if you so desire. We shall compare carefully all 
books presented, and shall be ready to give our reasons for 
whatever selection we make 

Respectfully yours, 

Roderick Hume, 
Superifiteiideiit of Schools R 

Precisely why Roderick, who had protested so sar- 
castically against being called “Professor’’, chose to 
call himself “Superintendent”, instead of “ Princi- 
pal ”, I don’t know. That word “ Principal ”, which is 
.so entirely satisfactory to the president of a Scottish 
University, is somehow not regarded as ornamental 
by American pedagogues. 

The return mail brought these letters : — 

“ Dear Sir, — In reply to yr. letter of 20, we enclose cata- 
logue of our pubs., and shall be glad to send you any books you 
wish to examine on receipt of price. 

Y’rs respecty, „ 

“ Dear Sir, — Replying to your esteemed favor of the 20th 
inst., we take pleasure in sending you a selection from our la- 
test editions. We bill them at one-half price, and will deduct 
the charge for any book which you may decide to introduce. 
You can hardly hesitate over our readers, arithmetics, and geog- 
raphies, but we hope that you will also adopt our grammars and 
writing-books. Indeed, we doubt very much whether you can 
do better than to introduce our entire series, which will thus 
give you the latest, the best, and the most widely used. Await- 
ing an early response, we are. 

Yours truly. 


O. X. Shedd & Co.” 


A C//AXG/t OF TEXT-BOOKS 


223 


“ Dear Sir, — As requested in your letter of the 20th, we for- 
ward you specimens of such of our books as you are likely to 
need. Please accept them with our compliments. Should you 
like them, we shall be glad to introduce them on liberal 
terms. Yours respectfully, ^ Hardclav.” 

“ My Dear Sir, — We are delighted to get your letter, inti- 
mating that at last you are prepared to adopt a uniform set of 
books. News of your remarkable success at Norway had al- 
ready reached us, and we have been hoping that our Mr. Hook 
would find time to call upon you. Don’t fail to come and see us 
the first time you visit the city. Our establishment turns out 
fifteen million books an hour, and you would be interested to 
see the various processes to which each volume is subjected. 

The city schools, too, would interest you, if you have never 
visited them. The office of the Superintendents is close by, and 
any of them will be glad to take us through some of the repre- 
sentative buildings. 

“As to text-books, we hardly know what to send you, as you 
do not specify the branches taught in your higher departments. 
We make up a little package of fifty of those most universally 
used, and send them, express paid. We send also our complete 
catalogue. Please look it over and check anything you would 
like to see, no matter whether you think of using it or not. We 
consider it a favor to have an intelligent teacher accept our 
books. He may not want to use them now, but he is sure to 
like them ; and if he does not some time use them himself, he 
will suggest them to somebody else who will. We need more 
men of your stamp in this State, Mr", Hume, and we trust that 
you will be deaf to any tempting offers which may come to you 
from abroad. There is room here for those who are fit to be at 
the top, and whenever you want a little backing call on us. Our 
publications are used in all the best schools, and we are thus in 
friendly relations with those who control matters. You have a 
good field to start from, and we look to see you occupying the 
place you have already shown yourself fitted to fill. 


224 RODERICK HUME 

“As to our books we venture no argument, trusting them 
entirely to your judgment. Most of them are in such universal 
use that you may feel under obligation to adopt them, because 
children who move into or out of your village will thus have the 
same books which are already in use. But we do not urge this 
consideration, preferring to put the books entirely upon their 
merits. 

“ Let us know when we can do anything for you. Many of 
our friends in the interior intrust us with little commissions, to 
make purchases, etc. Any favor of this kind, or any other, will 
be a pleasure to us. 

With great regard, we are, 

Yours truly, 

Hirehisson, Breakhimin, Nailher & Co.” 

Other letters flowed in, followed by express pack- 
ages, till Roderick’s shelves and table and floor were 
successively overflowed. He plunged into the com- 
parison with enthusiasm, made tables of details, and 
marked each book in each particular on a scale of 
ten, till he became entirely muddled and hardly knew 
the best series from the poorest. 

At this stage of the examination he was called to 
the door of the school-room one morning. The visi- 
tor presented a card, saying, — 

“ ’Tis — her — brothers, Sorrell & Co., publishers. 
New York; I’m Sorrell, but I’m not sorry to meet 
you.” 

“ And I am glad to see you ; come in,” said Rod- 
erick, wondering how many times Mr. Sorrell had re- 
peated his feeble pun, and how it sounded to him 
after the hundredth attempt. 


A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 225 

Mr. Sorrell was exact in dress, had a quizzical face, 
and united the assurance of George Francis Train 
with the humor of a gentleman. The trade ranked 
him among the most successful agents in the field. 

“‘Are you busy just now, Mr. Hume ? ” he 
asked. 

“ No,” replied Roderick ; “ you came at a fortunate 
time. It is half an hour before my next class.” 

“ Then, let us plunge right into business, Mr. 
Hume. Are you thinking of putting out our Hypo- 
thethical Readers ? ” 

“ We are comparing other readers with them, Mr. 
Sorrell, to see if we can gain by a change.” 

“Then, you are not particularly dissatisfied with 
the Hypothetical ? ” 

“ In some respects we are. We find them too 
much subject to material analysis. The binding is 
not as strong as it should be.” 

“ Great Heavens ! ” cried Mr. Sorrell. Then 
stretching forth his hand he grasped Roderick’s and 
exclaimed, “ Mr. Hume, I am under great obligations 
to you. The main objection to our business is its 
monotony. We have to listen to the same com- 
plaints and meet the same arguments day after day, 
till in the course of four or five years they become an 
old story. Now, if you had urged that our readers 
were too easy, or too difficult, or prudish, or moral, or 
sectarian, or atheistic, or radical, or copper-headish, 
and so on, I should have waited calmly till you got 


226 


RODERICK nUME 


through, and then I should have selected and spoken 
my little piece entirely refuting the objection, and 
convincing you that from your own point of view the 
Hypothetical Readers were a thing of beauty and a 
joy forever. These declamations are all very pretty 
and convincing ; but I have got rather tired of them, 
and I yawned in mind at the prospect of having to 
deliver one of them for your benefit. But you have 
given me a genuine sensation. For once I am taken 
unawares and have no little piece ready. Why, Mr. 
Hume, our worst enemies have admitted that Our 
binding .was unassailable, and have even gone so far 
as to claim that it was a disadvantage, since our 
books never wore out, and therefore grew so dirty by 
generations of constant handling as to be a source of 
danger to the primary departments. And you think 
that they are not bound strongly enough ! Mr. 
Hume, show me some of those feeble books, and let 
me face my misery at once.” 

So they started down-stairs to the primary depart- 
ment. On their way Mr. Sorrell stopped to tie his 
shoe. 

“These are English shoes,” he said, “genuine 
Waukenphasts.” 

“ I have seen them advertised,” said Roderick ; 
“of course that isn’t the real name of the maker.” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Sorrell, “ only a nomme de 

C7iir." 

. “Very queer,” said Roderick. He wondered 


A cHaa^ge of tejci-'boojcf 

whether that pun, too, was another of Mr. Sorrell’s 
old soldiers, and whether he had loosened the string ^ 
before he entered the building. 

Reaching the lowest room they had some confer- 
ence with the teacher. 

“ The fairest way will be to examine a book or two 
chosen at random,” said Roderick. “ Here, Willie 
Smith and Willie Thompson, bring your readers to 
the desk.” 

“ I see you follow the circus-posters,” said Mr. 
Sorrell. 

“ How.? ” asked Roderick. 

‘“For particulars see small Bills,’” replied Mr. 
Sorrell. 

Roderick looked at him long and gravely. 

“ On the whole,” he said at length, “ I believe 
that was original, Mr. Sorrell. I thought your other 
puns were part of your stock in trade, like your 
‘ commendations from distinguished educators’. But 
I am willing to accept the ‘ small Bills ’ as im- 
promptu, and as you have thus established your rep- 
utation, you won’t need to try any more. By the 
way, now that I scan your features more closely, I 
think I can tell you something about yourself.” 

“ Go on,” said Mr. Sorrell ; “ I shall be glad to 
peer into my future.” 

“No, I am going back. You were once a scholar 
at Lawrence Academy.” 

“ Yes, and ” — 


528 


RODERICK HUME 


“ You once walked four miles on a muddy spring 
night to attend a sociable at Peppered. ” 

“ Now, I ” — 

“Two other boys walked over with you, and all 
three of you hung around the walls of the church 
vestry because you were too bashful to be intro- 
duced.” 

“ Now hold on ” — 

“ Then all three of you walked home again, four 
miles in the mud, and dragged yourselves to bed 
about two o’clock in the morning.” 

“ And you ” — 

“The same. Shake.” 

“ That massive brow, those Jovian locks,” cried 
Mr. Sorrell, “ how could I have forgotten the name } 
But that beard ? ” 

“ A modern improvement,” said Roderick. “ But 
I want to ask a question or two. You graduated 
somewhere ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And went into the book business } ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And began on the Hypothetical Readers ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ So that you got all your business training from 
those books } ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Very good. Now, Sorrell, I’m glad to see you, 
and I want you to stay here and visit me as long as 


A C/ZAATGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 


229 


you can. But I tell you frankly your business here 
is ended. If the Hypothetical Readers have trans- 
formed a boy too bashful to be introduced to a gig- 
gling country deacon’s daughter, into — well, into a 
gentleman of your present characteristics, they shall 
stay in this school as long as I do. It is one of my 
doctrines that success in life depends upon a stiff 
upper lip, and I will trust to the Hypothetical Read- 
ers to provide it.” 

In his next letter to his partners, Mr. Sorrell 
wrote : — 

‘‘ I had a stroke of luck at Norway. The new principal 
was going to put out our readers ; but I chaffed him till I got 
him good-natured, and then discovered that he was an old 
schoolmate of mine at Groton, though he left about the time I 
entered. He shook hands to keep our books in, and spoke as 
positively as though nobody else had anything to say about it. 
So I dropped in on a few members of the board, and found 
that he is not very secure in his own position. But I was 
assured by two or three men, who spoke as if they knew, that 
no change would be made in opposition to his wishes. So I 
think we are all right for this term,” 

A day or two after, Roderick was passing through 
one of the lower rooms, when he saw a pudgy little 
man with red whiskers puffing up the merits of a 
big parcel of books he had laid on the table. Al- 
though it was in school hours, all three of the teach- 
ers were gathered about the new-comer, giggling 
^t him and at each other, Roderick approached 


230 


RODERICK HUME 


rather haughtily, and asked him his name and 
business, 

“ Cockrell, sir, Cockrell ; agent of the publishing 
house of O. X. Shedd & Co., sir. Just showing your 
lady-teachers our new readers, sir, the Inconsecutive, 
sir. Just look at that picture, sir. And now com- 
pare it with the botch-work in these wretched 
Hypotheticals.” 

Here Mr. Cockrell seized a Third Reader, and 
apparently at random, but really with skill born of 
long practice, plunged his stubbed thumb between 
the two leaves that contained the very worst wood- 
cuts in the whole Hypothetical series. ’ 

“ Now compare,” he said, holding up the two books. 

“Just see,” cried the women ; and Roderick had 
to admit that the contrast was striking. 

“ But after all, that an't the point,” continued Mr. 
Cockrell with amazing volubility ; “ this Hypothetical 
is a cheap got-up series, and has changed hands three 
or four times already. Nobody dares to put any 
money into it because it’s built on a scaly plan. ‘ The 
Word Method ’ they call it, you know. That is, a 
child shouldn’t spell a word by letters, but he should 
learn the whole word, and keep learnin’ ’em. Now, 
what nonsense that is ! Here is Shakespeare with 
twenty thousan’ words in ’im ; do you s’pose the child 
is goin’ to learn every one o’ them twenty thousan’ 
words seperit } Not by a darn sight. An’ here’s 
Webster’s Dictionary, with a hundred and twenty 


231 


A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 

thousan’ words in ’im, ’n’ what blarsted fool is goin’ 
to say these children mus’ go to work ’n’ learn ev’ry 
one o’ them hundred ’n’ twenty thousan’ words each 
one all alone seperit by itself ? Ye see, it only needs 
a little common-sense to show up the folly o’ such 
talk, ’n’ yet here’s folks goin^ on ’n’ teach’n’ year after 
year by ‘ The Word Method ’. Of course such teach- 
ers as these here, bright, smart, active, handsome 
gals, twenty years old, ’n’ full o’ snap ’n’ fire ’n’ in- 
genuity, can get pretty tol’able results even out ’o 
these books ; but give ’em such books as that [and 
he held up an Inconsecutive Reader and gazed at 
it admiringly], give ’em such books as that, ’n’ these 
here gals could learn their scholars to read the roof 
off o’ the schoolhouse.” 

The gals, no one of whom was under thirty-seven, 
were highly edified ; but Roderick suggested that as 
the course of study apportioned no time to book 
agents, it might be as well to go on with the day’s 
work, and let Mr. Cockrell do his talking at recess. 
In fact, he assured this worthy individual that it was 
highly improbable that any change would be made 
in readers, and accepted a set for examination only 
under protest. 

Mr. Cockrell wrote to his firm :■ — 

“You made a big mistake in not sending a complete set of 
our books all around to Hume. The rest of ’em did, and he 
felt techy about it. I’ve got all the women solid for the Incon- 
secutive. and I’ll bet you we fetch the board with ’em. One of 


232 


RODERICK HUME 


’em is mitily struck with ’em, and says he thinks they’ll go in. 
His name is Abrahams, Jacob, and he has checked some things 
on our price-list that he would like to have you send him. It 
will pay to treat him well ; for he knows all about our books, and 
has always preferred ’em to any others. Ime coming back here 
as soon as I fix things at Oxford, and Abrahams will telegraph 
to you if anything comes up sudden.” 


Roderick’s next visitor wore a stove-pipe hat, 
sported a cane, and presented the following card : — 


I<. bfnqbei^, 


2816 Mortgage Street, 


WITH 

Willy Winkle & Co. 


NEW YORK. 


I suppose you have heard of me,” he remarked. 

Possibly, though I do not recall the name,” said 
Roderick. 

Then you can’t have many book agents around,” 
continued Mr. Umber. “ Lord, how they hate me.” 

Indeed ! and why } ” 

“ Oh ! I’ve swept out their books everywhere. 
Why, just look here! I left New York Tuesday 
morning, and it’s now Friday noon — three days and 
a half. Now, sir, in those three days and a half 
how many places do you suppose I’ve carried ? ” 

I really couldn’t guess.” 

“ Nineteen, sir, nineteen. I carried the eighteenth 


A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 


233 


last night, and I was going to be satisfied with a 
dozen and a half. But I found by my time-table 
that I could get in three-quarters of an hour at 
Albany ; and, by Jove, I stopped off there this morn- 
ing and carried the city for our arithmetics. What 
do you think of that ? ” 

“ Quick work surely,” said Roderick. 

“Why, every time I get back to the office and 
look over my introduction account I am amazed,” 
continued Mr. Umber. “ Places that I have forgot- 
ten all about come rolling in for readers or histories 
or grammars, till, I vow, I believe we get almost as 
many orders at our branch office, in Mortgage Street, 
as does the house itself at Crimecrimehorrid. Why, 
sir, our cash receipts for copy-books alone, first in- 
troduction, last month, were over seventeen thousand 
dollars.” 

“You must be a profitable agent, Mr. Umber.” 

“I think the house is satisfied,” replied Mr. Um- 
ber modestly. “ They have doubled my salary five 
times since I begun with them, and they write me 
very pleasant letters, very pleasant letters. Why, 
a friend of mine implored me, on his knees almost, 
to open a cigar store with him, offering me a tip-top 
thing. But I said to him, ‘ No, sir,’ I said, ‘ Willy 
Winkle & Co. stuck by me when I was learning my 
business, and wasn’t worth much to them, and now 
that I have some little value I propose to stick by 
Willy Winkle & Co,’ ” 


234 


RODERICK HUME 


“ That was creditable in you, Mr. Umber.” 

“ Well, sir, the fact is, a man has to sacrifice some- 
thing for principle, Mr. Hume. Why, often and 
often my friends have said to me, ‘ See here. Um- 
ber, they would say, ‘why don’t you just tell Willy 
Winkle & Co. you’ve been an agent long enough, 
and that they must either take you into the firm or 
you’ll draw out and start a rival concern.’ But I tell 
them, ‘No, sir,’ I tell them, ‘Willy Winkle & Co. 
have treated me well, and I won’t go back on them. 
If they by and by decide that my experience, and my 
acquaintance, and my knowledge of books, make it 
worth while for them to take me in as an even part- 
ner, my brains against their capital, why. I’ll consider 
the matter,’ I say, ‘ I’ll consider the matter. But I 
can wait, I can wait. And, by Jove, I’ll never go 
back on the firm.’ ” 

“ How long have you been an agent ? ” asked Rod- 
erick. 

“ Since the first day of January,” replied Mr. 
Umber, rather confusedly ; “ but then I did a good 
deal of indirect work while I was teaching.” 

“Well, Mr. Umber, it is now time for school to 
begin, and you have interested me so much in your- 
self that I shall have no time to examine your books. 
But you can call on the members of the board, if you 
choose. I rather think Mr. Abrahams will give you 
encouragement,” added Roderick slyly. 

Mr. Umber did not see Roderick again ; but he left 
a set of books for him, and wrote to his firm ; — 


A CHANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS 


235 


“ We’ve got Norway, dead as a door-nail. The new prin- 
cipal, Hume, said to me, said he, ‘ I don’t care to examine 
your books. Umber; all I want is to know you. You may 
depend upon it, I’ll do all I can for them, because you’re a 
good fellow. Umber, and, by Jove, I like you.’ He recom- 
mended me to Abrahams, and Abrahams and I fixed the thing 
right up. I enclose a memorandum. See that the Cyclopaedia 
is sent right off, for we want to make things sure while we’ve 
got ’em easy.” 

Other agents followed, sometimes two or three a 
day. There was Bismarck, for D. Peachpound & Co., 
a quiet, unassuming man, who would point out every 
flaw in his opponents’ books, and every merit in his 
own, and clinch the argument by leaving behind him 
the impression of- a thoroughly good fellow. There 
was little Turbid, for Scribbler, Biceps, & Co., who 
never said an unkind word of anybody else’s books, 
but was always eager to defend and display his own. 
There was Rollin Stone, for Mark & Hardclay, who 
considered his books so far superior that argument 
was superfluous, but who went off contented as soon 
as he got Roderick’s subscription to the Mojithly 
Blackboard, a new school journal of unknown parent- 
age and mysterious purposes. There was Theodore 
Hook, the righthand man of Hirehisson, Breakhimin, 
Nailher, & Co., who planned farther ahead and won 
more victories than any other agent in the State. 
He said very little about his books to Roderick; but 
he took deep interest in his school, visited every 
department, threw out many useful hints, expressed 


236 


RODERICK HUME 


considerable suspicion of Captain Stone and his wife, 
warning Roderick to beware of them, and engaged 
Roderick, at a liberal compensation, to correct the 
proof-sheets of a forthcoming text-book. 

“ It isn’t for me to talk books to you,” he said 
to Roderick. “ You know what books are as well 
as I do, and you know what this particular school 
wants better than I tio. Only there is this much 
about it — you are perfectly safe in putting in our 
books. They are used everywhere ; and if you adopt 
them, why, you follow plenty of good examples, and 
cannot be held personally responsible, as you could 
for an untried book which proved a failure.” 

This argument had weight with Roderick, who 
had become convinced of the futility of the sort of 
comparison he had first undertaken. So he made 
out a list, largely from Mr. Hook’s list, and was 
about to present it to the board. But Mr. Dormouse 
heard of it, and came to see him. 

“Take my advice,” he said; “don’t get mixed up 
with text-books. They have cost many a strong 
teacher his place, and they would unseat you in a 
month. Let me keep this list, and we will follow 
you as far as we can. But let the book agents do 
the work, as they are paid to.” 

This advice was certainly self-sacrificing on Mr. 
Dormouse’s part ; for it brought upon him, as upon 
the rest of the board, a daily swarm of agents. 
Every member had arithmetics for breakfast, gram- 


A CliANGE OF TEXT-BOOKS ^ 3 ^ 

mars for dinner, geographies for tea, and copy-books 
to sleep on. At last a special meeting was called 
for a Friday evening. Seven houses were repre- 
sented, and each agent was allowed ten minutes to 
present his claims. No decision was reached, and 
the board adjourned to meet at ten the next morning 
and conclude the matter. 

The agents all put up at the same hotel ; and as 
there was really nothing more to do but to await the 
decision, they spent the rest of the evening together, 
and gave the occupants of adjoining rooms the im- 
pression of a jolly crowd. 

Only six of them were there, however. The 
seventh, a new man, named E. Riker, who repre- 
sented Rum Brothers of Boston, had arrived upon 
the ground too late to make any impression. He 
was a gentlemanly fellow, a pleasant talker, and full 
of enthusiasm ; but Norway was tired of book agents, 
and nobody would listen to him, so he had gone from 
the board-meeting to his room despondent. 

“ I wonder what the blank Riker is up to,” ex- 
claimed Umber, during a break in the stories. He 
left the room, crossed the entry to Riker’s door, and 
listened a moment. Then he rushed back, stifled 
with laughter. 

“ By Jove, fellows, keep quiet ; O Lord ! I shall 
burst ; just come out here and listen a minute; oh, 
jimminy, this is the richest thing yet ! ” 

Wondering what caused this exhilaration, the 


538 RODERICK HUMk 

Others followed Umber to Riker’s door, and 
listened. 

Riker was kneeling in fervent prayer. 

“ O Lord ! ” he plead, thou knowest how impor- 
tant it is to me to carry this place, and thou knowest 
that we have the best books, especially the geog- 
raphies. O Lord ! wilt thou not soften the stony 
hearts of the board, that they may listen to argument 
and be guided wisely in this matter. O Lord ! thou 
hast all power, and now, even now, thou canst bring 
to naught the designs of the enemy. O Lord ! hear 
me and succor me, for I am in sore distress. And 
the glory shall be thine forever.” 

It was with difficulty that the six got back to their 
room, and inextinguishable indeed were the peals of 
laughter that arose. 

“ I say, fellows,” said Umber, “ let’s put up a job 
on Riker. Come over to Jim Dormouse’s, two or 
three of you, and we’ll build up the biggest joke of 
the season. 

He outlined his plot, which was approved and 
elaborated, and at once carried into effect. Mr. Dor- 
mouse was just leaving the shop when the three 
agents came rushing in. 

“ By Jove ! Jim,” said Umber, who made it a point 
to be familiar with common people — they like it, be- 
cause it is condescending — “by Jove! Jim, we’ve 
got up the biggest joke of the season. Now, we want 
you to get up at the meeting to-morrow, and say that 


A CHANGit OF text-books 

at about half-past ten to-night you were suddenly im- 
pressed with the idea that the best geography for use 
in this school is ‘ Our Oblate Spheroid Riker’s book. 
He’ll think that it is in answer to his prayer, you 
know ; and we’ll let him tell the story a dozen times 
before we let out on him. By Jove ! won’t it be 
rich ? ” 

“ That would be something of a joke,” said Mr. 
Dormouse, his little black eyes twinkling. “ You fel- 
lows had better go to work now and convince me, so 
that I. shall be honest to-morrow morning when I say 
that just at this time I suddenly thought it was best 
to introduce ‘ Our Oblate Spheroid ’.” 

“Well,” said Umber, entering into the humor of 
Mr. Dormouse’s suggestion ; “ that is easily done. 
The fact is, Mr. Dormouse, we are paid to advocate 
other books ; but when you come down to our own 
real opinions, we have to own up that ‘ Our Oblate 
Spheroid ’ is really the only book published which 
makes geography a pleasant and profitable study.” 

“To tell the truth,” put in Mr. Stone, “since the 
‘Oblate Spheroid’ was issued, the other publishers 
have stopped making geographies, and are eager to 
carry places now only to get rid of their old stock.” 

“ Why, jest see ’ere,” added Cockrell, “ our folks 
in the firm hires a boy fur nothin’ else but to cut all 
notices of the ‘ Spheroid ’ out o’ the noospapers before 
the ol’ man sees ’em. Ef he sh’d lay eyes on this 
book his conscience never’d let ’im sell another copy 


RODEi^ICK HVMR 


^46 

of Hillteeth’s ; fur he’s a diggun in the Presbyterian 
Church.” 

Then they all three laughed uproariously. What 
a rich joke it was, to be sure ! 

“ I think that will do, gentlemen,” said Mr. Dor- 
mouse, his eyes still twinkling ; “ I see that you are 
skilful and experienced agents, and you may depend 
on having your little joke carried out.” 

The next morning Mr. Dormouse rose at the meet- 
ing and said : — 

“ Mr. Chairman, when we adjourned last evening 
it seemed to be pretty certain that the Collected 
geographies. Inconsecutive readers, and Apdidymus’s 
arithmetics would be adopted this morning. 

“ I was myself opposed to any change, but the 
board stood four to four ; and I understand that Mr. 
Blarston, who has just returned to town and is pres- 
ent, is prepared to vote for this list of books. But, 
Mr. Chairman, about half-past ten last evening I was 
suddenly persuaded that it was best for us to ex- 
amine more closely the ‘ Oblate Spheroid ’ series, and 
I am convinced that it is best for us to adopt them. 
I therefore move that they be substituted for the 
series now in use.” 

Mr. Baker seconded the motion, and the roll was 
called. Messrs. Angell and Abrahams voted “ No.” 
Mr. Baker voted “ Yes.” Mr. Blarston said : — 

“ I’ve just got back, and don’t know anything 


A CHANGE OE TEXT-BOONS 54I 

about this thing ; but there’s only one thing I want 
to know, and that is what Mr. Hume thinks. We’ve 
got a man in charge of this school that understands 
his business, and I believe in letting him run it.” 

Roderick replied that he considered the “ Sphe- 
roid ” series satisfactory, and Mr. Blarston voted 
*‘Yes.” Roderick looked gratified, and exchanged 
a glance with Mr. Dormouse. 

The vote stood six to three in favor of the “ Sphe- 
roid Mr. Umber began to think the joke was going 
a little too far, when Mr. Dormouse rose and moved a 
reconsideration. 

“ That’s more like it,” whispered Umber to Cock- 
rell. He winked at Mr. Dormouse ; but that gentle- 
man did not respond. 

To Mr. Umber’s consternation the vote was carried 
again by precisely the same majority. 

“ What the blank does that mean } ” he whispered 
to Cockrell. 

“ Go home and consult your ‘ Cushing’s Manual ’,” 
growled that worthy, intensely disgusted. 

Then Mr. Dormouse moved that, in view of the 
approaching election, and the close of the year, all 
further changes be postponed to the fall term. This 
vote also was carried, was reconsidered, and was 
carried again. 

Three humiliated agents, and three others who 
had stood no chance, and were on the whole rather 


242 


RODERICK HUME 


gratified at the turn things had taken, were gathered 
at the hotel. 

“ All we’ve got out of this is the joke,” said 
Umber, at length ; “ let’s make the most of that, any- 
way.” 

So he called in Riker, who was skipping up to his 
room. 

“Riker,” said he, “how the blank did the board 
come to swing around to your books ? ” 

“Why, the fact is,” said Mr. Riker innocently, “I 
had about given the thing up, when a message came 
for me at eleven o’clock last night. I went over to 
Mr. Dormouse’s shop, where I met Mr. Baker and 
Mr. Marvin. We spent an hour comparing the 
‘ Spheroid ’ with the ‘ Collected ’, and they decided to 
go for my book.” 

“ By Jove ! that wasn’t fair,” cried Umber. “ Why 
didn’t they call me in and hear my side ^ ” 

“ Why, Mr. Dormouse said you acknowledged that 
your book was in every way inferior.” 

“Yes ; but that was a joke ” — 

“Mr. Umber, let me give you a little advice. Not 
to question your taste in eavesdropping at my door 
and making sport of my private devotions, I would 
call your attention to the fact that it was only 
through your doing just what you did that my prayer 
was answered. When you try to put up a job on the 
Lord Almighty, you are likely to find yourself follow- 
ing your nose into the very pit you are digging.” 


A OP TP^T-POOKS ^43 

“ But one thing puzzles me,” said Umber, crest- 
fallen ; “ I thought Jim Dormouse was a free-thinker 
and would fall right into this.” 

“ Don’t judge from appearances,” said Riker. “A 
man may dress plainly and talk quietly, and yet 
have money and influence ; he may listen without 
expressing any opinion to your absurdest talk, and 
yet keep up a tremendous thinking all the while ; and 
he may be, as Mr. Dormouse is, the leading trustee 
of the Presbyterian church.” 

“ See here,” said Stone, “ we’re beaten, and we 
give in. Now be generous and let the story stop 
right here.” 

“All right,” said Riker, “shake.” 

They shook ; and that is why it has never before 
been told how the geographies in the Norway High 
School were put in by prayer. 


244 


kb 'DEkick H'UMk 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 

/\ /IR. DORMOUSE, they tell me that Abrahams 
i V I is a candidate for election.” 

“ Of course. Insurance business is dull, and he 
must do something.” 

“ But you’re not going to let him get in } ” 

How can I help it, Mr. Hume } The village is 
strongly Republican just now, and I’m on the other 
side of the fence.” 

“ But this isn’t a political matter, Mr. Dormouse. 
Republicans and Democrats alike ought to go for 
the best man, and Abrahams disgraces the whole 
village.” 

“ That’s all very true, Mr. Hume. It is also true 
that these things are done by machinery. If you 
want to keep Abrahams out you must go to the chief 
engineer.” 

“ Who is he, pray } ” 

“ ‘ Mute Herring ’, the boys call him, because you 
can never find out from him what he is ’going to do. 
He is a builder and contractor ; lives on Willow 
Street.” 


A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 


245 


‘‘ How does he come to manage things ? ” 

“ Oh, he has a natural taste that way, and gives 
time to it that other people can’t spare. Besides, it 
pays him pretty well. He has the inside on con- 
tracts when he bids for them ; levies taxes upon the 
men he elects, for campaign expenses ; gets on the 
county committee ; and by and by expects to go to 
the Assembly.” 

What kind of a man is he ” 

“A good-natured fellow, with fair education, a 
good deal of energy, and tact enough to keep on the 
right side of ‘the boys 

“And the village of Norway lets such a man as 
this choose its officers } ” 

“ Oh, yes ! Once in a while a dozen men get in- 
dignant, and vow he shall hold the reins no longer. 
Herring finds it out, looks them over, and, according 
to the strength of the opposition, either makes con- 
cessions or calls out a little heavier vote at caucus. 
They fume around, cast their rebellious votes with a 
good deal of bluster, and find that Herring’s ticket is 
carried by rather more than the usual majority.” 

“ Why, Mr. Dormouse, such a state of things is 
disgraceful.” 

“ Of course it is ; but what are you going to do 
about it, Mr. Hume } Can you give four or five 
hours a day, the year around, to figuring ahead for 
all these elections ? Can you undertake to know 
everybody and get the good-will of everybody in the 


246 


RODERICK HUME 


village who has a vote you can buy or wheedle him 
out of? In short, can you make it your life-work 
to pull wires as the organist pulls his stops, so that 
when the voters squeal they shall grunt your tune ? ” 

‘‘The figure is not flattering, Mr. Dormouse, and 
I do not believe it is just. Tm going to lay myself 
out for once anyhow, and see whether Mute Herring 
is to control the board of education.” 

“ Go ahead,” said Mr. Dormouse, eying the young 
man with good-humored curiosity ; “ some teachers 
would consider it risky to mingle in a board election ; 
but it won’t do you any harm, so long as the odd 
man expects you to become a relative by marriage.” 

“ Expects what ? ” asked Roderick, drawing out 
the interrogative in a rising inflection of astonish- 
ment. But Mr. Dormouse did not look up from his 
work. Roderick concluded that the reference was 
to Mr. Marvin, and was astonished that Mr. Dor- 
mouse uttered a sarcasm so unkind. Indeed, he was 
so much astonished that he laid the remark away in 
his mind, to turn it over again some time. 

Meanwhile his canvass met with gratifying suc- 
cess. The best men in the village, though too indif- 
ferent to lead, were ready to follow in a campaign 
against ring-rule. 

One or two private meetings were held, and the 
opposition became formidable. 

So Roderick was not surprised one Saturday morn- 
ing, when a caller announced himself as Mr. Herring. 


A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 


247 


‘‘ I am told that you are opposed to the re-election 
of Mr. Abrahams,” he said ; “ and I thought I should 
like to talk over the matter with you in a friendly 
way. The Republican party here has always been 
very harmonious, and we want to keep it so. The 
boys haven’t decided on anybody for school commis- 
sioner, and they want the man that will give the best 
satisfaction. Now, if there is any objection to Abra- 
hams, why let’s have somebody else. Who do you 
think would be a good man } ” 

Roderick was gratified to see the coon come down, 
and began to look upon himself as a veritable Davy 
Crockett. 

‘‘We haven’t thought of any one in particular,” he 
replied. “ All we ask is that the man be intelligent, 
reliable, and honest. There are plenty of such to 
choose from.” 

Mr. Herring led Roderick into discussing a dozen 
possible candidates, finding this objection to one and 
that to another. Then he asked suddenly, — 

“After all, what great objection is there to Abra- 
hams, Mr. Hume.?” 

This question took Roderick by surprise, as the 
conversation thus far had assumed that Mr. Abra- 
hams was out of the field. But he replied, — 

“ Why, every objection, Mr. Herring. A member 
of the board who visits the school, and is in some 
sense a model to the scholars, should be a gentle- 
man. Is he one .? He should ^be not only honest, but 


248 


RODERICK HUME 


above suspicion. Is he honest } His moral charac- 
ter should be without a stain. Is he — but we don’t 
mean to go into that.” 

“ Oh ! you don’t mean to go into that ? ” repeated 
Mr. Herring. An acute observer might have seen 
that under his heavy mustache the corners of his 
mouth first curved up with a smile of relief, and then 
down with an air of decision. That curve down de- 
termined the result of the election. The caucus, 
balloting, etc., were merely formalities, which Mr. 
Herring could afford to concede to the village, as 
they were entirely harmless. But Roderick was not 
an acute observer or even a shrewd politician. So 
he went right on with his argument, supposing that 
the merits of the case would have some influence 
upon the result. 

No,” he said ; “it is not pleasant to stir up such 
matters, and in this case it is unnecessary. It is 
enough to say that, besides his general unfitness, 
Mr. Abrahams has used the office for his own emolu- 
ment. The book agents can testify to that, as well 
as parties nearer home.’’ 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” replied Mr. Herring ; “ you 
can’t depend much on what book agents say. If 
they lose a place they always declare that money 
did it. They had rather admit that the other 
agents had longer pockets than that they had longer 
heads.” 

But in this case they all agree,” said Roderick ; 


A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 


249 


then he added, with some hesitation, doubting 
whether he ought to show his strong cards, but 
anxious to convince Mr. Herring; “besides, I have 
some strong proof.” 

“ Oh, indeed ! that is another matter, Mr. Hume,” 
replied Mr. Herring with sudden interest ; “ what is 
this proof } ” 

Still doubting whether he was acting wisely, Rod- 
erick handed him the following affidavit : — 

“New York County, i-j-. 

Rollin Stone being duly sworn, deposes and says, that he 
is an agent for the introduction of the school books published 
by Mark & Hardclay of this city, and that in pursuance of his 
business he called upon Jacob Abrahams, a member of the 
Board of Education of the Norway High School ; that he soli- 
cited the vote of the said Jacob Abrahams for the introduction 
of Apdidymus’s arithmetics, and that the said Abrahams, be- 
fore giving a definite answer as to his vote, addressed the said 
Stone substantially as follows : ‘ I have been for a good many 
years superintendent of the Methodist Sunday-school, and I 
am going to resign. As a parting gift I want to present them 
with a nice lot of works for their library. Now, what have 
you got fliat you can contribute?’ That to this demand the 
said Stone replied that his firm published no books suitable 
for a Sunday-school library, and indeed no other books of 
importance than those of which he had already presented 
copies for examination to the said Abrahams ; that the said 
Abrahams then replied substantially as follows: ‘Oh, that 
will make no difference ! Just make up as large a pile as you 
think you can of your books, and 1 will exchange them in 
New York for such books as I want;’ that the said Abra- 
hams did call at the room of the said Stone, and did carry 


250 


RODERICK HUME 


away a large bundle of books ; that the said Stone has since 
learned that the said Abrahams is not, was not at that time, and 
never has been, superintendent of the said Sunday-school ; and 
he further deposes that to the best of his belief the said Abra- 
hams begged for and used these books for his own emolument. 

Rollin Stone. 

Subscribed and sworn to before me, 
this 17th day of May, 1875. 

R. K. Truesdell, Justice of the Peace!''' 

Mr. Herring read the affidavit carefully, and 
handed it back. 

“ Is that all the proof you’ve got } ” he asked. 

“That is enough,” said Roderick. “It is positive, 
and it suggests the rest.” 

“ Oh, you mustn’t be too hard on the old man,” 
said Mr. Herring; “he has set his heart on re-elec- 
tion, and I don’t believe the boys will want to go 
back on him for a little thing like that. But I’ll talk 
it over with ’em.” 

So he bowed himself out. “ Nothing to be scared 
over there,” he chuckled, as he left the house. 

But Roderick kept at work, and received so much 
encouragement that he looked upon politics as a 
trade easily learned. He had read in the Nation 
something about the necessity of looking after cau- 
cuses. He had never attended one, but he resolved 
to be on hand this time and to make a ten-strike. 
So he prepared an elaborate speech, and then trans- 
lated it into monosyllables, having heard that short 
words carry conviction in a crowd. He had the 


A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 25 1 

points well put in an ascending series, and was sure 
the climax would be overwhelming. He wondered 
that the caucus should be held at noon, and at 
a corner where there was no large hall ; but he had 
his speech ready, and would deliver it, even if the 
party assembled in the open air. 

But when he got there he found only a window 
in a shoemaker’s shop open to receive votes. Mute 
Herring and a few subordinates were supplied with 
ballots printed to order, and the few who straggled 
by on their way to dinner passed into the window 
these printed slips. 

“ So this is a caucus,” whistled Roderick to him- 
self. He did not deliver his speech, and Mr. Abra- 
hams was duly announced as the regular Republican 
candidate. 

An immediate consultation was held, and an op- 
position candidate selected. The moment Mr. Nicho- 
las’s name was proposed, every one wondered why it 
had not before been thought of. He was a college 
graduate, a teacher of many years’ experience in some 
of the best schools of the State, a man of property, 
culture, and public enterprise. The Democratic 
party at once offered to nominate him, but he de- 
clined, being a thorough Republican ; and the Demo- 
cratic party, therefore, made no nomination- and 
promised to support him. The better class of Re- 
publicans were enthusiastic, and the victory seemed 


won. 


252 


RODERICK HUME 


On the night before the election Roderick had 
retired, when Mr. Nicholas called and insisted upon 
seeing him. Throwing a dressing-gown around him, 
Roderick came down-stairs, wondering what could oc- 
casion so late a visit. 

“ Have you heard the new charge against me } ” 
asked Mr. Nicholas. 

“I haven’t heard any charge against you,” said 
Roderick. 

“They have found out that I am a Presbyterian,” 
said Mr. Nicholas. 

“ Are you ? ” asked Roderick ; “ indeed, I couldn’t 
have told. Well, what of it ” 

“ Why, Abrahams is a Methodist, you know, and 
the Methodists have the most votes. Now, the story 
is around that this opposition to Abrahams is all a 
church ring to keep Methodists out of the board. 
The Seminary folks, particularly, are quite aroused 
about it.” 

“ Oh, what nonsense ! ” said Roderick impatiently ; 
“ I will go up to the Seminary the first thing to- 
morrow morning. There must be some misappre- 
ension.” 

So the next morning Roderick called upon the 
financial agent, Mr. Dogma, a courteous, energetic 
business man, famed for his skill in preaching a hun- 
dred dollars for the Seminary out of any poor con- 
gregation, and leaving them all the better-natured 
for it. He heard Roderick’s story attentively, and 


A SCf/OOL-BOARi) ELECTION 253 

then called in Professor Sammit, the most liberal- 
minded man in the faculty. 

“ One thing about this is rather queer,” said Mr. 
Dogma ; “ how did it happen that with- so many 
competent Methodists in this village you picked out 
a Presbyterian ” 

“ Why, for one, I never knew he was a Presbyte- 
rian till he called me up at twelve o’clock last night 
to tell me so. We didn’t select him because he was 
a Presbyterian, but because he was a man, and we 
wanted a man in that place, for a change.” 

“ Still, it’s very strange, very strange, Mr. Hume. 
Mr. Abrahams is the only Methodist on the board, 
and we can’t see why you exclude us entirely.” 

“ But, my dear sir, you don’t mean to say that you 
regard Mr. Abrahams as a typical Methodist } For 
my part, I am neither a Methodist nor a Presbyterian ; 
but if I had any sectarian prejudices against you, I 
could ask no greater triumph than to have your de- 
nomination represented by him. But this is non- 
sense, Mr., Dogma. We are not electing a board of 
foreign missions, but of education ; and we don’t care 
what church the members belong to, if they are 
honest, intelligent, and progressive.” 

“ I don’t know,” interrupted Professor Sammit ; 
**we may not be very proud of Mr. Abrahams, but 
after all he belongs to us and looks after our inter- 
ests. Now, the high school has not been friendly 
to us, Mr. Hume. Two young men have gone from 


254 


iWDEklCK HUME 


there to other theological seminaries. We think it 
is the duty of Norway to sustain its own institu- 
tions.” 

Roderick was amazed ; but he promised that at 
least under his administration any prospective clergy- 
men among his graduates should have the merits of 
Norway Theological Seminary impressed upon them ; 
still, he urged that this contingency was slight, and 
the need of good men on the board was pressing. 

“After all, what very great objection is there to 
Mr. Abrahams.^” asked .Professor Sammit. 

The query made Roderick impatient, but he 
handed to the professor Mr. Stone’s affidavit. 

“ That, for one thing,” he said. Professor Sam- 
mit read it, and handed it to Mr. Dogma. When 
Mr. Dogma had read it they looked at each other 
and smiled. 

“ You see, we are old teachers,” said Professor 
Sammit, in explanation ; “ we know all about this 
text-book business. This Mr. Stone’s books weren’t 
adopted, were they } ” 

“ No, sir. There has been no change as yet.” 

“ Oh, well, that accounts for it ! These agents 
will swear to anything for the sake of carrying out 
their schemes. In fact, — to be frank, Mr. Hume, 
— didn’t Mr. Abrahams oppose certain books that 
you were interested to introduce ? ” 

Roderick rose with quiet dignity. “ I see that we 
do not understand one another,” he said. “ I called 


A SCHOOL-BOARD ELECTION 255 

upon you as a citizen upon other citizens, as a gentle- 
man upon gentlemen. You will allow me to bid you 
good-morning.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Professor Sammit has- 
tily ; “ all kinds of stories are afloat, you know, and 
I have never met you before. I am sure you are 
straightforward in this matter, and I wish you had 
come to us before. All this should have been ar- 
ranged before the caucus, and the right man nomi- 
ated in the usual way. As it is, I think we shall be 
unable to help you this time, but you will find us 
ready to co-operate in future.” 

“ Yes, if we nominate a Methodist,” muttered Rod- 
erick, as the door closed behind him. “ And yet that 
man is a scholar and a gentleman. And there are 
Presbyterians and Episcopalians who would oppose a 
Methodist just as bitterly I suppose.” 

So the Seminary votes, some thirty or forty alto- 
gether, were cast for Abrahams. So were most of 
the ignorant Democratic votes. A story had been 
spread that the opposition to Abrahams was due to 
his resistance against a change of text-books. The 
printed report was exhibited of the meeting where he 
voted against the change of geographies, and no rec- 
ord appeared of his vote the night before for a change 
of all the text-books used, his efforts for which only 
an accident had kept from being successful. 

On the other hand, the respectable votes of both 
parties were cast almost solidly for Nicholas. The 


256 


RODERICK HUME 


Norway school being organized under a special act, 
the election of village officers occurred at the same 
time. Herring saw that unless something was done 
Abrahams would be defeated. Of a sudden, Repub- 
lican ballots began to be cast for a Democratic village 
trustee, and Democratic votes in equal number for 
Abrahams. When the ballots were counted, Abra- 
hams had received seven more votes than Nicholas, 
but the strongly Republican village of Norway had 
elected a Democratic trustee by ninety majority. 


A MlSCHIEVom AUTOGRAPn ALBUM 2^7 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A MISCHIEVOUS AUTOGRAPH ALBUM 

HERIi^ was a party at Mrs, Percival’s. The invi- 



1 tations named eight o’clock as the hour, but 
everybody who prided one’s self on style knew it was 
unfashionable to go before half-past nine. At about 
that time most of the young people of the village 
assembled ; for there was a general appreciation of 
Mamy Percival’s pretty face, and of her mother’s 
cocoa-nut cake. 

There was no dancing, that amusement having 
been pronounced immoral by the pastor of Mrs. Perci- 
val’s church. So for the first half-hour the guests 
sat about the sides of the room, discussed the weather 
of yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow, and agreed that 
it was likely to be a dry summer. Then somebody 
proposed a game of Copenhagen, and every face 
lighted with such joy as an alderman feels when the 
turtle is brought on. A rope was produced, the coy 
maidens were persuaded to join the circle, the young 
Baptist minister, fresh from Newton, was thrust into 
the centre, and when he had touched the hands of his 
tenderest parishioner, an almost interminable struggle 
began for a kiss. The fun grew fast and furious ; 


258 


RODERICK HUME 


any bashfulness which had entered the door escaped 
up the chimney ; and when a fair damsel paused for 
breath, she sighed to her swain, — 

“ Oh ! aiii t we having a good time ? ” 

Presently, however, there came a lull in the for- 
feits. Everybody had measured tape till her lips 
were sticky, and most of the party were seated in 
sheer weariness awaiting some new sensation. 

It came from a side-room, where a shout of laugh- 
ter followed somebody’s reading of something. In 
an instant the room, the doorway, the entry, were 
crowded, and every neck craned forward to see what 
was happening. 

Tom Alcott, a big, thoughtless, good-natured fel- 
low, had mounted a chair, and was reading from a 
small book : — 

y.. “Emma C. Andrews, 15. — A good girl, sometimes for- 
getful, but faithful and kind-hearted.” 

■ ^ Good for you, Emma,” shouted the boys, and 
'Emma hid her face. 

“ Addie E. Buchanan, 16. — Restless; always wanting 
to leave the room or to be excused early. Poor scholar.” 

Her face burned ; and as the others looked at her 
in silence, her tears fell and she left the room. 

“ Nelson D. Clark, 15. — A shrewd, roguish boy, whose 
black eyes are to me a reflector of all the mischief going on in 
school.” 


A MISCHIEVOUS aVTOGRAPII ALBUM 

There was a pounce for Nel, and he was shoved to 
the front amidst roars of laughter. 

“Henry E. Chapman, 14. — Moiistrii?n infor 7 ne^ iiigensU 

Nobody knew quite what that meant. 

“Aden J. Davis, 13. — Conceited, deceitful, idle, and 
foppish.” 

“ O Aden, Aden ! how’s that ? ” shouted the boys, 
in glee at the accuracy of the description. But Aden 
stood aloof and looked things unutterable. 

“Nettie J. Cooley, 15. — One of the attractions of the 
schoolroom. Always looks fresh and blooming, her face 
rippling in smiles. Generous-hearted, but impulsive. Says 
many things she doesn’t mean. An excellent scholar, but 
finds ‘ can’t ’ in the dictionary. 

“ Katie A. Brown, 16. — Seems to mean well, but itches 
for flattery, and is mischievous. Disposition jealous. 

“ L. C. Herbert, 12. — Loose-jointed. Always dirty, dis- 
orderly, idle, and ready to do any one a favor. 

“ Charles C. Camp, 13. — A very good and faithful 
scholar. Will make his mark. 

“ Lilly M. Hathaway, i 5. — Irrepressible. Perhaps the 
brightest scholar in the room ; full of fun, fire, snap, and 
vigor ; pretty, tender-hearted, with more personal influence 
than any other girl in school. Did not fairly get control of 
her till I discovered and made use of her admiration for 
Charley Pease, whose name, characteristically enough, is 
written on the opposite page. 

“Charles R. Pi:ase, 16.^ — Is not bright or studious or 
ambitious, and is yet the most promising boy in school. Is 


2^0 


RODERICK KDME 


liked not for what he does, but for what he is, and exemplifies 
the universal domination of sturdy common-sense. 

“Willie A. Whittlesey, i8. — Recommended to me as 
the worst boy in school. Has one or two good traits, but 
needs a tight rein. 

“ Thomas Ackley, 17. — This boy and his brother, on the 
next page, may be described together. They are twins in birth, 
meanness, deceit, and dishonesty. 

“Victoria Blarston, 18.” — 

“ Give me that book ! Instantly ! ” 

It was an imperious voice that spoke, and an 
imperious will that fired those flashing eyes. Vic 
Blarston had just learned that Roderick’s autograph 
album, in which he had asked the scholars to write 
their names, and which he then had used for a char- 
acter sketch-book, had somehow got into Tom Al- 
cott’s hands, and was raising a tempest of wrath. 
She strode through the yielding throng in the door- 
way like a Juno, and trembled with passion as she 
seized the book from Tom’s reluctant hand and de- 
manded of him how he came by it. He was, no 
coward, but he did not delay the answer, — 

“ From Mrs. Stone.” 

“ I might have guessed as much,” Victoria hissed. 
She swept the room with a glance that lighted on 
that lady, seated in one corner, and covertly seeking 
an escape. Victoria literally fixed her with her glit- 
tering eye, and asked, — 

“ And how came you by it } " 

Mrs. Stone was thoroughly scared. She could 


A M/SCH/EVOUS AUTOGRAPH ALBUM 


261 


hardly articulate that her husband handed it to her. 
She hadn’t meant it should get out of her pocket, 
but — but ” — 

“ So in this case Adam gave the apple to Eve — 
poor innocent Eve,” said Vic with a gesture of con- 
tempt ; “ and how did the captain get it } From the 
serpent direct ? ” 

“ He found it in Mr. Hume’s room ”• — 

“ And stole it. Exactly. And you two scandal- 
mongers, backbiters, eavesdroppers, mischief-makers, 
thieves, are teachers in our public school ! ” 

Every epithet hissed like hot iron as Vic’s lips 
closed upon it. Mrs. Stone quivered under the 
branding ; but she was a woman, and she replied, — 
“ Seems to me I remember a stealing of your own, 
Vic Blarston. Perhaps if you had let Tom Alcott 
read what Mr. Hume thinks of you ” — 

Victoria winced, but she spoke with dignity, — 

“ I have done many foolish and wicked things, 
Mrs. Stone, and I do not deserve that Mr. Hume 
should think well of me. But I shall never know 
what he thinks of me if I wait to peer into his 
private papers to find out. Mr. Marvin,” and turn- 
ing suddenly she offered the album to that gentle- 
man, who had just come in, “will you be kind 
enough to keep this book for Mr. Hume, and to 
hand it only to him } ” 

“ Excuse me,” said Mr. Marvin ; “ I must decline 
any communication whatever with Mr, Hume,” 


262 


RODERICK HUME 


This turned the scale against Roderick. The 
descriptions were fair enough ; but it had happened 
that the severest ones were among those read, and 
each of the victims smarted. Then Captain Stone 
moved insinuatingly among the boys, and suggested 
that it was mean in Roderick to beg for their auto- 
graphs, and then use them for ridicule. This was a 
shrewd hint, for nothing so rouses an honest boy’s 
indignation as a suspicion of meanness. So the 
good scholars joined with the bad in bitter denuncia- 
tion of Roderick’s hypocrisy and treachery. Especi- 
ally disastrous was the reference to Lilly Hathaway 
and Charley Pease. Roderick had not overestimated 
her influence in the school, or misunderstood her 
admiration for Charley. It chagrined her to have 
her girlish devotion paraded in public, and stung her 
to learn that Roderick had used it to control her. 
Charley, too, was indignant that Lilly should be so 
insulted, and forgot that it was Captain Stone and 
not Roderick who was responsible for the whole 
proceeding. Altogether Mrs. Percival’s cosey little 
house was turned into a hornets’ nest, and ven- 
geance dire was plotted for the coming day. 

Vic Blarston had rushed home boiling with wrath 
against Captain Stone and his hateful wife. She al- 
most determined to waken her father and make him 
promise that night to drive them out of the school. 
Turned from that purpose by his heavy breathing, 
5h^ went to h^r own room, threw off her handsome 


A MISCHIEVOUS AUTOGRAPH ALBUM 263 

gown, and prepared to retire. She remembered that 
the album was in her dress pocket, and took it out, 
laying it carefully upon the bureau. It was an inno- 
cent-looking little thing ; yet it had already fomented 
a rebellion in one of the best-disciplined schools in 
the State, and it was about to work further mischief. 
For Mrs. Stone’s venomous words had left a sting in 
Victoria’s heart. 

“ ‘ If you had let Tom Alcott read what Mr. Hume 
thinks of you ’ — Can it be that he thinks very ill 
of me ” she asked her. self. 

She sat a long while by the open window looking 
out into the night and recalling every word that 
Roderick had ever spoken to her. Vic Blar.ston was 
no longer a girl who had copied compositions. The 
fairy wand had beckoned to her ; she had crossed 
the threshold of womanhood. With the passion of 
an impetuous nature she loved Roderick Hume. 
And he.? 

Antares and Vega and Altair peered successively 
into her room while she sought to assure herself of 
that. He had been kind, sympathetic, proud of the 
progress she was making under his immediate in- 
struction. He had led her mind into new fields of 
thought, her life into new relations, her soul into 
new motives. Always ambitious, she was becoming 
ambitious for better things, and she began to believe 
herself capable of attaining them. She felt a new 
joy in living, because she could live for others. Her 


264 


RODERICK HUME 


health, her beauty, her wealth, all seemed double 
blessings because she .could use them to make others 
happy. What if that “others” really meant “one 
other ” } The soul is emancipated that ceases to live 
for itself. She now lived for something outside of 
herself, and her soul exulted in its freedom. 

Reviewing this experience of her own, she asked 
herself if it were credible that Roderick could so 
develop and elevate and inspire her without some 
corresponding consciousness of his own. She be- 
lieved it impossible. He must love her, unworthy 
as she was. True, he had never varied from his 
careful behavior as a teacher and a friend. She 
could look back upon no tender word or act or 
glance, such as she had seen pass between him and 
Mary Lowe. But all that would come with time. 
She need but be patient and worthy. 

Then recurred to her, as from a serpent’s tongue, 
that mocking hint of Mrs. Stone’s. She sprang to 
her feet in sudden passion. 

“ I will know,” she cried ; “ she shall not torture 
me with doubt.” 

She relit the gas, seized the book, and turned the 
leaves rapidly till she came to her own name. The 
notes covered the page and were continued in the 
blank leaves at the end. This is what she read, — 

“ V iCTORi A Blarston, 1 8 . — Remarkable girl. F ather rich 
and a boor ; made himself and botched the job. Mother hor- 
ribly vulgar, without the rugged mental energy that gives her 


A .yiSCHIEVOUS AUTOGRAPH ALBUM 26 ^ 

husband a certain claim to respect. Everything done to spoil 
the girl ; father even applauded her for being brazen-faced 
when detected in stealing a composition. Would expect her 
to be low-minded, vain, arrogant, and vulgar. She has these 
traits, but principally as habits : — I might say, as manners 
learned at home. Within, she has high ideal ; wants to be, 
rather than to seem; has modelled herself on Mary Lowe, 
even in dress; since I gave her special attention has made 
progress surpassing anything I ever saw. Has a career before 
her, if she keeps her aim high.” 

“He speaks of me only as a scholar,” sighed Vic- 
toria ; “but that was some time ago perhaps. He 
may have added something since.” 

She turned the page and found another entry. 

“Made an astounding discovery to-night. Took tea at her 
house, had played croquet, and sat listening to her singing. 
After one or two new trifles she struck into Mrs. Craik's 
‘ Faithful Little Bird’, which Mary used to sing for me. She 
had heard me hum it, I suppose, and hunted it up. All at 
once it flashed across me what Mr. Dormouse meant when he 
said the odd man on the board expected me to become a rela- 
tive by marriage. Preposterous as it may seem, it is to this 
end the creature has been copying Mary’s manner and speech 
and even her dress; and now she copied her song, and pro- 
posed to be my ‘Faithful Little Bird’ herself. As well might 
the crow copy the nightingale. 

“ ‘ The little bird sang evermore,’ 
she warbled. And I added mentally — 

“ ‘ Lost caws ! lost caws ! ’ ” 

The thick morocco covers crumpled like paper in 
Vic Blarston’s grasp. 


266 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER XX. 


A CRISIS 


N the night of Mrs. Percival’s party Roderick 



had slept soundly. He awoke in excellent 
spirits, ate a hearty breakfast, and betook himself to 
school in good humor with himself and the world. 

He passed several groups of scholars who seemed 
to be discussing some project, and who responded to 
his greeting less cordially than usual. He wondered 
if they were complaining because he stayed away 
from the party. He confessed to himself that he 
had shown, and indeed had felt, less interest this 
term in his scholars as individuals. 

“ They should not complain,” he muttered ruefully ; 
“ I feel less interest in myself.” 

When school opened he saw signs of a deeper dis- 
content, but still he was not troubled. When the 
rider knows his horse, he is not disturbed because 
the animal is uneasy. Roderick knew his school, 
and he knew he could control it. 

Before the first class had been called the crisis 
came. Henry Chapman entered the room, treading 
heavily with boots into which his trousers were 
tucked, It needed not so quick an eye as Roderick’s 


A CK/SIS 


267 


to see that both tucking and tread were defiant. He 
had often remonstrated with this big, uncouth boy 
as to his uncurried appearance. He had finally for- 
bidden him to present himself in the schoolroom 
with pantaloons inside his boot-legs. Thick-headed 
and sullen as he was, the boy had recognized his 
master and had obeyed him. Manifestly somebody 
had encouraged him to revolt. Sam Slick once said 
that women are like horses ; you must encourage the 
timid ones, be gentle with the fractious ones, and 
lash the sullen ones into blazes. Roderick had laid 
the maxim away as a sound principle of school disci- 
pline, and now he had a chance to apply it. He rose 
from his seat and pointed his finger to the door. 
The boy stopped and looked at him, shamefaced but 
defiant. 

“ Go back into the entry and take your trousers- 
legs out of your boots,” said Roderick, ready, if the 
boy hesitated, to put him there. 

The boy wavered an instant, dropped his eyes, and 
obeyed. Roderick, wondering that even so stupid a 
boy should venture a revolt without more preparation 
for resistance, resumed his seat and consulted the 
programme for the day. A disturbance in the back 
part of the room challenged his attention. Nhie boys 
zverc tucking their trousei's into their boot-legs. Among 
them were the largest and the best boys in school. 
This was not disobedience ; it was rebellion. 

Never had Roderick been more thoroughly master 


268 


RODERICK HUME 


of himself. He rose slowly ; he spoke deliberately, 
gently, kindly. 

“ Boys,” he said, “ I am sorry for this, and I am 
especially sorry for you. I cannot surmise what 
fancied cause you have for this action, but you are 
evidently misled by some one who wishes well neither 
to you nor to the school. You will not believe this 
now, for you are not the boys to band together for 
such a purpose unless you felt yourselves wronged. If 
you had come to me privately, you would perhaps 
have discovered your error, whatever it is, and have 
avoided an act upon which you will some time look 
back with regret. However, it is too late to consider 
that now. You have openly defied my authority as 
principal of the school. You therefore compel me to 
exercise that authority to its utmost limit. 

“ By the nervous glances that you cast at one an- 
other, I see that you expect me to use force, and that 
you have pledged yourselves to stand by one another. 
I hardly know how such a contest would result. You 
would have the advantage of aggregate strength, but 
I should have the advantage of my right under the 
law to defend my authority to the utmost extremity. 
I know a teacher in Buffalo who was put in charge 
of a rough school in one of the lowest wards of that 
city. On the first morning a burly young man re- 
sisted him. The teacher seized a heavy iron poker 
and laid the boy’s head open at the first blow. For 
‘jome days policemen accompanied that teacher to 


A C/^/S/S 


269 

and from his house to the school ; but he was master 
of the situation, and he is principal of a Buffalo 
school to-day. 

“ I tell you this merely for your own information. 
It may some time be useful for you to know that the 
law sustains the teacher in any violence which he can 
prove to have been necessary to support his master- 
ship. 

“ But I do not propose to use violence. There are 
two ways in which the teacher may vindicate his au- 
thority. He may compel obedience by physical force, 
or he may expel the offenders from school. A con- 
scientious teacher will usually choose the former 
course, for it is his duty to make bad boys better ; 
not to get rid of them. But it is simpler and easier 
to remove those who are unwilling to obey. In a case 
like this, where boys of your age and attainments 
deliberately plot together, this is the plain course to 
pursue. I therefore suspend from this school until 
they shall have made suitable public apology, Masters 
Perkins, Camp, Clark, Pease, Whittlesey, Barker, 
Davis, and both the Ackleys. 

I see by your looks that you had expected this, 
and have agreed to be put out only by force. But of 
course the law has long ago anticipated and provided 
for this emergency. The statute is very distinct. If 
you hesitate to leave the room, I have only to apply 
to the nearest justice of the peace. The law compels 
him to arrest every one of you, and to fine you each 


koiy^.RicK HuMl> 


^>76 

twenty-five dollars and costs. You will therefore 
have no opportunity to display any heroics. After I 
have suspended you, further resistance is not between 
you and me, but between you and the justice of the 
peace. You will do well to come to a decision at 
once.” 

This was a new view of the case to the boys, but 
they knew Roderick too well to suspect him of mis- 
statement or of exaggeration. They looked at one 
another, arose, and filed in an orderly way out of the 
schoolroom. 

Roderick regretted that such an incident should 
occur. But he considered himself in no way respon- 
sible for it, and he had certainly proved himself equal 
to the emergency. The rebels would of course appeal 
to the Board of Education, but Roderick’s majority 
of five to four rendered him secure there. The boys 
would presently yield, and all would go as before. 
What could have been the occasion of such a sudden 
dislike ? Evidently some person had been making 
mischief by misrepresentation or falsehood. Roder- 
ick was too proud to ask who or what. Conscious of 
having done his duty toward every scholar, he was 
willing to wait for justification. So he consulted no 
one, and made no allusion to what had passed. The 
rest of the scholars were obedient — some sullen, 
some timid, some nervous. Roderick went straight 
forward with the duties of the day. Perhaps he was 
gentler, more patient than usual, but he was not less 




A CAVS/S 


!27\ 


I 

r 


careful and exact in his requirements. The room 
was never more quiet ; the recitations were never 
more accurate. The scholars had agreed to dislike 
Roderick, but they could not help respecting him. 

Just after school had closed, Mr. Dormouse came 
in. Roderick went up to him smiling, but Mr. 
Dormouse looked serious. 

“ A meeting of the board has been called,” he 
said, “and there is going to be trouble. John Blar- 
ston has swung around, and the majority is against 
you. You will have to take those nine boys back.” 

If the floor had sunk under Roderick he could not 
have been more dismayed. He was about to make 
inquiries ; but Mr. Dormouse would not stay, and left 
him with the advice to yield as gracefully as possible 
to what was plainly inevitable. 

It was some time before Roderick realized the 
misery of his situation. He was first indignant that 
it should be in the power of any one man to nullify a 
principal’s authority through personal spite. Here 
was a majority of the board of nine members, nomi- 
nally elected to care for and promote the interests of 
the school, but really using their office to nurse their 
private grudges. Of Abrahams, Angell, and Domite 
no better could be expected. Mr. Marvin had for 
some time been hostile for personal reasons. And 
now John Blarston, who but a few days ago had ex- 
pressed utter confidence in Roderick, was become his 
opponent, and carried the balance of power over to 
his enemies. 


l^ODERICk HVME 


“ And of such a majority as this,” Roderick com- 
plained, “ the law makes me an absolute servant. 
When they hire me, they stipulate that the engage- 
ment shall cease at their pleasure, and thus keep 
hanging over my head their authority to discharge 
me without cause. My legal rights as a teacher are 
mine only as their agent, subject to their authority. 
By refusing to sustain me in this suspension, they 
can make it utterly impossible for me to control the 
school, and, without discharging me, force me to 
leave with a broken-down reputation. No matter 
how the school suffers, their spite is against me, and 
they are bound to gratify it. 

“ Why not resign at once, making a plain state- 
ment of the facts in the public press } ” 

Ah ! here was a deeper thrust ; Roderick could 
not resign. He who had so prided himself upon his 
independence was now a slave to the debt he had 
contracted. “ You will have to take back those nine 
boys,” Mr. Dormouse had said, and had had the 
authority to say. Until that four hundred dollars 
was paid, Roderick had no right to consult his in- 
dependence or even his reputation. So long as Mr. 
Dormouse desired it, and the board would pay his 
salary, he must stay, though every day scorched his 
pride and scarred his future. 

“ Oh, that I owned myself once more,” he groaned. 
“ Mr. Dormouse cannot understand how impossible it 
is to discipline a school where the scholars know I 


A CRISIS 


m 


am hot sustained. He expects me to endure it fof 
the sake of earning my salary and paying back the 
money I have borrowed. I cannot disappoint him, 
and yet what degradation confronts me.” 

Then there came upon him the bitterest thought 
of all. His college debt had been larger than this, 
but it was necessary. If the New York savings- 
bank had broken, if he had lost his money accident- 
ally, if he had been violently robbed, he might have 
braced himself against a misfortune which merely 
happened. But to have lost his money in striving to 
clutch the money of others ; to have been swindled 
in seeking to swindle those sharper than himself — 
this was humiliation indeed. He had lost his purse, 
to him no trash ; but with it he had lost his reputa- 
tion with himself. All his ills he could have en- 
dured, had they been put upon him from without. 
But he had brought the worst of them upon himself. 
He had lost money, friends, influence, position — these 
he could spare, but how could he live without self- 
respect 

Then he sighed. 

“ When I began to love Mary Lowe,” he said, “ I 
thought I was just learning how to fill out my ideal 
of manhood and be true to it. But since she disap- 
pointed me I have steadily disappointed myself. Can 
it be that my first wrong step was to distrust her > ” 

On that he pondered. 


274 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER XXL 


RODERICK IS PUT ON TRIAL 

HEN Roderick reached the rooms where the 



meeting was to be held, he was surprised 


to find there, not only the members of the board, 
but the nine boys whom he had expelled, two or 
three of the girls, and most of the assistant teachers. 
In all these faces he saw not one kind look. He 
was condemned beforehand, and he felt that the 
appeal to the board would be a matter of form. 
What could have occasioned this revulsion of feeling 
toward him ? He could not imagine, and he did not 
care. Some one had maligned him, of course ; but if 
his teachers, his best scholars, and even Tom Baker, 
were no better friends than to believe the first 
slander they heard, it was well he should know it. 
So he sat down with a bitter smile, and felt a moody 
curiosity to note how human nature would be illus- 
trated in the proceedings to come. 

Being asked to make his statement as to the sus- 
pension of the boys, he briefly narrated the facts, 
and asked that the suspension be continued by the 
board till due apology had been made. 

Charley Pease at once rose with a written petition, 
but before he could offer it Mr. Blarston spoke. 


IWDEk/CA^ OJV TE/AL 


275 


“ There is another little matter that comes in 
ahead of that,” he said ; “ and I move that this board 
begin proceedings by looking a little deeper into that 
Regents’ Examination. It is well known that we 
lost twenty-one Regents’ scholars by somebody’s 
tampering with the questions, costing us over a hun- 
dred dollars in money, and lowering the rank of our 
school among the other academies of the State from 
number 44 down to number 85. Now, this is a 
pretty serious matter, and I don’t believe it has been 
dag deep enough into. And I move, Mr. President, 
that we begin to-night with an investigation into 
this thing.” 

The motion was carried, and Mr. Blarston was 
appointed to conduct the examination. He began 
deliberately, but brutally, remorselessly. 

“ Young man,” he said, addressing himself to 
Roderick, “ you testified, I believe, that Miss Lowe 
opened that package of questions.” 

“ No, sir, I did not,” replied Roderick tartly. 
It had always exasperated him to hear this man 
speak of Mary Lowe. There seemed to Roderick 
a taunting insult in the very way he pronounced 
her name. Evidently he was bringing up the matter 
only to wreak some private spite on him or on her ; 
perhaps on both. Roderick’s temper ro.se. “ He 
may insult me,” he said to himself, “but he had 
better be careful how he alludes to her.” 

“ Oh ! you did not say she did it } ” repeated 


2/6 


kODEkICK IIVME 


Mr. Blarston sarcastically ; “ perhaps you will be kind 
enough to inform this board what you did say.” 

“ Under your questioning I admitted three facts,” 
said Roderick steadily : “ that the questions were 
opened, that Miss Lowe asked for an unusual recita- 
tion, and that she drilled her scholars upon those 
questions. I could not account for those three facts 
then ; I cannot account for them now ; but I have 
never testified to anything beyond them.” 

“ Do you believe that Miss Lowe opened those 
questions, or knew of their being opened } ” asked 
Mr. Blarston. 

“ I am not aware that you have any right to 
question me as to my belief where I cannot be 
sure,” replied Roderick coldly. 

“ Well, I am aware that we’ve got the right, and 
a blanked good right, to know what you believe. 
You gave us to understand that night that you be- 
lieved she was guilty, and on the strength of your 
belief we turned her out of the school. Now we ask 
you again, and you try to sneak out of it like a 
blanked coward ; but that won’t go down. We want 
to know, right here and now, whether you believe 
that Miss Lowe stole that examination paper.” 

Roderick was stirred by something deeper than 
Mr. Blarston’s insolence. He rose slowly from his 
seat, he stood for a moment silent, looking the man 
straight in the eyes, and then he said, — 

“ Mr. Blarston, you have placed me under a lasting 


RODERICK ON TRIAL 277 

obligation. You force me to ask myself a question 
which I have unworthily shunned. I see on one 
side a chain of circumstances in which no link is 
missing ; I see on the other a character purer, nobler, 
more incapable of such an act than any other I evcr 
conceived of ; I despise myself that I have been 
for months too cowardly to decide which evidence 
I would receive. I decide now ; and I solemnly 
declare that I know Miss Lowe is innocent. And I 
will knock any man down who dares to hint to the 
contrary,” he added, beside himself at the coarse 
sneer in Mr. Blar.ston’s face. 

“ Perhaps you can now understand how I have 
felt towards you,” interrupted Mr. Marvin in a 
rather husky voice. 

“ How you must have despised me,” said Rode- 
rick ; “ I wonder you didn’t pitch me into the canal. 

“ Humph ! I would if I had had a chance,” 
grunted Mr. Marvin. 

“This high tragedy is all very interesting,” re- 
sumed Mr. Blarston ; “ but we may as well get back 
to hard pan. You at last testify that Miss Lowe 
did not open the examination papers. Suppose you 
tell us now who did ” 

“ That I do not know.” 

“ Oh ! you don’t, eh } Well, have you any sus- 
picions } ” 

“ None whatever.” 

Nope whatever. Rj^actly. Well, ncpvv, how doesj 

V ; . , . ..... I . ■ , * .V 


278 


RODERICK HUME 


it happen, young man, that while you were so uncer- 
tain as to whether Miss Lowe did it, as you now say, 
you did not examine the matter more closely ? You 
never showed much anxiety to inquire into it, did 
you ? ” 

“ My first inquiry should have been of her, to learn 
how she came by the questions she gave out to her 
class. I went down to the station before the board- 
meeting, but the train was late. I attempted to 
speak with her here, but she swept by me and of- 
fered you her resignation. I called upon her the 
next morning. Her uncle coldly told me she had 
left Norway forever, and did not invite me to enter 
his house. In my blindness I thought I was blamed 
because I did not shield her. I see now that I was 
despised because I could distrust her. And I de- 
served to be.” 

“ Never mind your melodramatics, young man. I 
see you have got a hint of what is coming, and 
want to protect yourself by being humble. But 
that won’t go down. You still persist that you 
know nothing of how the questions were opened 

“ I have so testified,” said Roderick with quiet 
contempt. 

“ All right ; ” and Mr. Blarston rubbed his hands 
with satisfaction. “ We will try and quicken your 
memory a little. Victoria, please take that chair.” 

Vic Blarston came forward and told, with seeming 
reluctance, the following story. 


RODERICK OK TRIAL 


279 


On the night before the Regents’ Examination she 
had been standing at the desk waiting to ask a ques- 
tion, when Miss Lowe came up and announced to 
Mr. Hume her intention of giving her class an ex- 
tra recitation the next morning. “ In what } ” Mr. 
Hume had asked. “ In my book of problems,” she 
had replied ; and Vic noticed at that instant a 
strange sort of gleam in Mr. Hume’s eye. Unable 
to get the information she wanted, she had taken 
a volume of the Cyclopaedia into an adjoining recita- 
tion-room to copy a long article. Happening to look 
up she saw, through the crack of the door, that Mr. 
Hume went to Miss Lowe’s recitation-room and 
brought back to his own room her book of prob- 
lems. This puzzled her, and recalled the peculiar 
look in his eyes when Miss Lowe had mentioned the 
book. Yet she thought little of the circumstance, 
and started to enter Mr. Hume’s room. He was 
copying into Miss Lowe’s book some questions from 
a printed slip of paper, and was so absorbed in his 
work that he did not notice her. She returned to 
her recitation-room and watched him .through the 
crack of the door. After copying the questions, he 
crumpled up the slip of paper and threw it into the 
waste-paper basket. Then, as if convicted of. care- 
lessness, he took out the paper, rolled it up tightly, 
and put it into his coat pocket. She remembered 
the coat, because it was a heavy pea-jacket that he 
seldom wore in the schoolhouse. He then took the 


28 o 


RODERICK HUME 


book back to Miss Lowe’s room and went home. 
She followed, and would have thought more of it had 
not the excitement of the examination and the sub- 
sequent discovery of fraud driven everything else 
out of her mind. 

Some two months later a party rode over to the 
lake for a moonlight boat-ride. Mr. Hume was in 
the boat ahead of her, and she happened to notice 
that for the first time he had on again the very coat 
in a pocket of which he had put the slip of paper. 
Just as she was wondering whether it were there 
still, he put his hand in his pocket, felt of it, pulled 
it out, glanced at it, seemed startled, rolled it up into 
a wad, and threw it into the lake. As her boat fol- 
lowed, she picked it up and put it into her own 
pocket, resolved at some future time to gratify her 
curiosity as to its mysterious contents. 

On the night of Mrs. Percival’s party, after she 
had returned home excited by what had occurred 
there, she happened to remember that she had never 
looked at that wad of paper. She went to her closet, 
took down the dress, felt in the pocket, found the 
wad, unrolled it, and was amazed to discover in it the 
missing examination paper. Then the whole plot 
was clear. Roderick had opened the envelope, takep 
out one of the sets of questions, copied them into 
Miss Lowe’s book so that she would use them with 
her other problems, and had then accused her of 
opening the questions herself. 


RODERICK ON TRIAL 


281 

Victoria concluded by laying upon the table the 
wad of paper. It was passed from hand to hand and 
examined carefully. Beyond perad venture it was the 
stolen set of questions, and Roderick was amazed — 
he was even amused — to see how each person as 
he handled the bit of paper felt assured that Vic’s 
story was true. It was “ tangible ” evidence. 

“ Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself 
now } ” demanded John Blarston. 

“ Nothing,” replied Roderick, his lip still curved 
with contempt. 

“ Then you own up, do you ? ” 

“Scarcely. I merely pity those who know so 
little of me or of human nature as to listen to a 
story like that.” 

“ Perhaps you can now understand how I have felt 
towards you,” said Mr. Marvin again. 

It was a cruel revenge he was taking, but Rod- 
erick replied, — 

“ I do understand, sir ; and you had a thousand 
times better reason.” 

“ How do you account for Mr. Hume’s desire to 
injure Miss Lowe .^ ” asked Mr. Dormouse of Vic 
Blarston. 

“He was jealous of her because she was a better 
teacher,” replied Miss Blarston with a vicious look ; 
“ he often showed that, and tried to set the scholars 
against her.” 

Ah ! ” §aid Mr, Porrnoiise, Then to the teaph^ 


282 


RODERICK HUME 


ers, who sat together, “ Perhaps some of you have 
noticed this ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, most of them had noticed it. Captain 
and Mrs. Stone had noticed it violently ; in fact, 
they had “apprehended” something of this sort, and 
weren’t surprised a bit. The others were sorry to 
say they had surmised such a feeling on Roderick’s 
part, and had deplored it, trembling for the conse- 
quences. Two of them had gone so far as to pity 
her for having to associate with him so closely. But 
when Mr. Dormouse questioned Miss Bell> she 
sprang to her feet with tears in her eyes. 

“ It is all a monstrous falsehood,” she protested, 
“as ridiculous as it is wicked. Mr. Hume just 
adored Miss Lowe, and did everything he could to 
make her work easy and happy. And anybody who 
thinks he did such a thing as she tells about [point- 
ing to Victoria] is just blind and bad-hearted. He 
couldn’t do it. If he told me so himself I shouldn’t 
believe it; and as for her'" — again she pointed to 
Victoria, and words failed her ; but she finished the 
sentence with her nose. 

“ It is easy enough to understand that,” sneered 
Mrs. Stone ; “ she hopes to get Mr. Hume back 
herself.” 

Miss Bell flushed, but she replied bravely, — 

“ As to that insinuation, which is worthy of the 
person who made it, I don’t mind saying that as soon 
as this term closes I am to be married to Mr. John- 


RODERICK OK TRIAL 


283 


son [this was the new Baptist minister, and her face 
was scarlet] ; but if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t stay a day in 
a school where scholars and teachers and trustees can 
all be turned against the best teacher they ever had 
by the lies of a miserable mischief-maker.” 

Roderick’s eyes were moist. Since the party at 
The Mansion he had snubbed Miss Bell, politely but 
absolutely ; and yet she was the only one in the vil- 
lage to stand up for him. 

“Thank you. Miss Bell,” he said, in a tone that 
was sweet music to her all the rest of her life. 
When she was married, her richest present came 
from Roderick, and she agreed with her husband 
that their first boy should be named for Mr. Hume. 
The first boy happened to be twins ; .so one was 
called “ Roderick”, and the other, “ Hugh M.” 

Mr. Marvin asked Victoria two or three questions. 

“ How did you know that Mr. Hume copied into 
the book from the slip of questions ” 

“ Because there was nothing else on the table to 
^ copy from. Nothing was there but the inkstand, the 
pen he wrote with, the slip of questions, and Miss 
Lowe’s book.” 

“ Did you see where he got this slip of questions } ” 

“ Yes ; I saw him cut open a long brown enve- 
lope.” 

Roderick had been watching Vic Blarston with cu- 
rious interest. About her, too, Mary had been right 
and he had been wrong — the girl was absolutely 


284 RODERICK HUME 

without moral principle. Yet Roderick could not 
help admiring her audacity and her skill. She had 
told her story well ; so well that it was useless for 
him to contradict it, at least before such a jury. 
With what a steady poise had she given her testi- 
mony, how well had her reluctance been assumed, 
how definite had been her purpose, and how well had 
she carried it out. And this was the girl who but 
a day or two before had been so docile, so affection- 
ate, so eager to deserve his respect. Truly woman 
is past finding out,” he said to himself. 

But at the instant she gave her last evidence she 
trembled and turned pale ; her self-possession left her, 
she hid her face, she sank down like one who has 
risked everything upon a single throw, and who has 
lost. Roderick wondered at this, but when he dis- 
covered the reason of it he was dumfounded. 

Vic had testified, — 

“ I saw him cut open a long brown envelope.” 

A new witness, entering from the inner room, had 
added, — 

“ And so did I.” 

It was Mary Lowe. 


Mar y lotvJs a t home 


285 


CHAPTER XXII. 

MARY LOWE AT HOME 

M ary LOWE’S home was unique and charming. 

Her father had for many years edited the Fal- 
Inlah Sentinel, a weekly paper of considerable circula- 
tion and of wide influence. In the campaign of 1 868, 
the contest in Farnsworth County had been remark- 
ably close. When it ended with the election of every 
Republican candidate, politicians felt grateful to Mr. 
Lowe, and made him the next candidate for Congress. 
He was elected, and sat through the first session. 
He came home only to die within a month. All 
through life he had done his work with the regular 
and ceaseless energy of a watchspring. Like a 
watchspring he snapped in what seemed to be the 
height of health and vigor. 

He left a wife and a daughter, for whose benefit 
the Sentinel was at once sold. It found a ready pur- 
chaser ; and the proceeds, with those of two insurance 
policies, assured to his family just about income 
enough to live comfortably at the Rockery. 

Unfortunately the Rockery was mortgaged, and 
the interest on the mortgage would have straitened 


286 


ROryERiCK nuME 


their income to the point of genteel poverty. The 
place made necessary a pony and phaeton, and at 
least a man and a woman servant. For this they 
could provide, but they could not save three hundred 
dollars a yeaP more for interest money. So Mrs. 
Lowe proposed to give up the Rockery. 

To this Mary would not consent. To her the 
Rockery was not simply a pleasant home. In every 
nook she saw her father’s taste, often his handiwork. 
It was he who had discovered a building-site in this 
stony and inaccessible spot. Here he had spent his 
leisure time for months, before a timber was laid, 
clearing the grove, building a road, prospecting for 
a possible cellar. The house itself was all his own. 
It followed no rules of architecture, but manifested 
inside and out a marked and consistent individuality. 
It wasted space and material. The timbers were 
unnecessarily heavy ; clear boards were used where 
culls would have answered ; walnut and ash and 
butternut were lavished where a painted pine would 
have been conventional and cheaper. The corners 
were innumerable, and so were the recesses for 
books and drawers and closets. The halls were 
wide, and the stairs were low. Air and sunlight 
were everywhere. Every room had its open grate. 
Sitting-rooms and bedrooms had huge fireplaces. It 
was not a showy house nor an economical one, but 
it was wondrously comfortable. 

No doubt a skilled architect could have built a 


A/A/CV LOJVK AT IIOAfE 


287 


better house, but a Divine Architect devised the 
grounds. The house stood just on the edge of a 
grove, and was reached bj a half-mile of steady as- 
cent from Fallulah. At the foot of the hill lay the 
village, huddled and uncouth in the centre, but length- 
ening out, year by year, to the east and south, in 
streets well shaded and handsome. To the left, the 
lake stretched far beyond the northern horizon. To 
the right, the creek wound through a green valley 
from the distant southward. In front. Mount Roll- 
stone rose a thousand feet straight up from the vil- 
lage, with here and there a quarry, and occasionally 
a cabin with a rear-yard higher than the roof, as at 
Mauch Chunk. 

Back of the house was a grove of half an acre, 
mainly of chestnut oaks, with here and there a cedar. 
On two sides the grounds were bounded by preci- 
pices, around the corner of which turned the path to 
pastures on the hill beyond. As one stood upon the 
edge, and peered over at the road a hundred feet be- 
low, the whole place seemed a huge bowlder trans- 
planted from some giant region in a far-off glacial 
epoch. Beyond the precipice the hill rose again 
seven hundred feet higher to Death Rock, whence 
landmarks were pointed out in Canada, and in Ver- 
mont, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts. No 
wonder Marv Lowe was unwilling to give up the 
Rockery. 

She had been one of the first to graduate at 


288 


RODERICK HUME 


Vassar, and had come home with mind and body 
alike vigorous. She believed in woman’s right to 
work, and the work she seemed best fitted for was 
teaching. Through her uncle’s influence she was 
chosen preceptress at Norway ; and in spite of her 
mother’s protests she went there, prepared to stay 
till she had earned enough to pay off that mortgage. 
In a term she had made herself indispensable ; in 
a year, to the astonishment of Professor Cobb, she 
was offered the same position in the largest school in 
a neighboring county, at a thousand dollars a year. 
The Norway board at once raised her salary to that 
amount, and subsequently to twelve hundred. At 
the close of this very school year she would have 
paid off the last dollar of the mortgage. 

Then came that terrible Regents’ Examination, 
and her enforced resignation at a time when there 
were no vacancies. Yet another weary year must be 
passed in some new school, and under pressure of 
sad memories, before her self-assumed burden would 
be lifted. Mary did not complain ; but she longed 
as she never longed before, for the time when she 
should be free to stay at home with her mother. 
She dreaded to go among strangers, and to take up 
her work among unaccustomed surroundings. It 
was hard that the same misfortune should add a year 
to her labor, and at the same time make that' labor 
less inviting than ever before. 

On the day after Mrs. Percival’s party, Mary had 


MAJ^y LOWE AT HOME 


289 


gone to a neighboring town as an applicant for a 
position to be vacant the next year. Mrs. Lowe sat 
talking of her with an only sister who had just 
returned from Europe. 

“ I never saw any one so happy as Mary was when 
she came home at the time of the Regents’ Examina- 
tion,” she said. “ Mr. Hume had asked her to be 
his wife. She had deferred her answer ; but both of 
them knew what it would be, and she could talk of 
nothing else but how lonely his life had been and 
how happy she would make it.” 

Then she told her sister Roderick’s story, as he 
had told it to Mary, and as Mary had told it to 
her. 

Roderick was a first child of parents full of theo- 
ries. The theories were practised on him, and the 
results were deplorable. He was brought up to con- 
sider himself a bad boy — first, positively, then com- 
paratively with his playmates, then superlatively to 
the rest of the world. Before he was ten years old 
he was sent away from home to be got rid of. Then 
his father died, and he never afterwards had a home. 
He ‘‘worked out ” on a Vermont farm, where he ate 
salt pork, slept with the hired man, and served as a 
general drudge. He went to the academy in winter, 
was disliked by the principal, and was expelled for 
impudence. This was in war-time, and he enlisted as 
a drummer. He was sent out to an old regiment 
which had hoped to come home to recniit. Thq 


- • RODERICK Il l/ME 


590 

veterans hated the new men cordially, and Roderick 
had to fight for his rights. More than those he 
never got. His regiment had been raised in a large 
city, the better men had been promoted, and the rank 
and file were mostly ignorant or vicious. Roderick 
came home strong in body, with a little money in 
the bank, and without a friend in the world. 

He fitted for college, and went to Middletown with 
a schoolmate who had promised to play Damon to 
his Pythias. Roderick had fifty dollars, Damon had 
five hundred. They hired a room together and fur- 
nished it together. In buying their scanty second- 
hand furniture, Roderick, in his generous way, did 
not always insist that Damon should furnish his half, 
in which case Damon invariably didn’t. The crisis 
came over a ten-dollar carpet. Damon wouldn’t go 
halves, but was perfectly willing that Roderick should 
buy it out of the little that was left of his fifty 
dollars. Then Roderick looked at him, and sighed. 

“It isn’t your fault, Damon,” he said ; “ God made 
you so ; but you were cut out too small to live with 
me.!’ 

Then he fell in with a German ; a big, clumsy fel- 
low, whose soul seemed as broad as his foot and as 
d^0,p;9.s his- double-bass voice. Roderick trusted him, 
a 5 >dt lavished on him the impulsive gush of a heart 
which longed to love somebody. The German stood 
it phlegmatically ; and when he had his photographs 
taken offered Roderick the faintest of two proof s* 


MAA^y LOWE At A/0 Me 


'2()l 

apologizing on the ground that the others cost so 
much. He never found out why Roderick dropped 
him. It was a trifle, but it was not a feather which 
broke a camel’s back, it was a straw which showed 
which way the current flowed. 

Roderick had no more friends. Some men he as- 
sociated with more than others, but he was careful to 
give them no more than he got. When he graduated 
his theme was the “ Merchant of Venice,” and he de- 
fended Shylock. As a teacher he was frank and 
cordial in all his official relations, but he never 
sought acquaintances outside of his scholars and 
teachers. If people wanted to know him they must 
come to him. He never intruded upon any one un- 
less he had business with them. He did not under- 
value good society, but he was willing to wait till it 
asked for him. If the invitation never came, very 
good ; he would at least retain his independence, 
which was worth a great deal more. He would be 
glad to know that other people thought well of him, 
but it was more important to him to think well of 
himself. 

So his life had been self-centred. There had been 
little love in it, little sympathy. But it had been 
busy, progressive, fairly successful. Roderick had 
been content with the present and hopeful for the 
future. The tree was bare ; but it was deep-rooted, 
vigorous, and thrifty. 

In the warmth of Mary Lowe’s sympathy it had 


RODERICK HVME 


^ 9 ^ 

suddenly blossomed, and Mary had been astonished 
at his tenderness and thoughtfulness. 

“‘Just think, mamma,’ she said; ‘I have all his 
heart, and he loves me just for myself. What ivill 
he do when he sees what a mother I have ? ’ And 
then the dear child threw her arms about my neck 
and fairly cried for happiness. 

“ She had come home to tell me about it, and to 
prepare for his visiting us by carrying out a romantic 
little plan of fitting up a room especially for him. 

“‘You see, mamma,’ she said, ‘he never had any- 
thing done for him. It is pitiful to see how unused 
he is to any thoughtful attention, fie bruised his 
thumb one day at Uncle Aleck’s ; and when I brought 
linen he took it from me, wrapped it around himself, 
wound the thread, and actually began to tie it, hold- 
ing one end in his teeth. I laughed till the tears 
came, — indeed, I am not sure the tears came from 
the laughing, — and he could not seem to understand 
how ridiculous it was for him to do that himself 
when I stood by to do it. It surprises him to have 
me offer him any of the little services that brothers 
look for as a natural right, and he seems so grateful 
for them that I hardly know whether to laugh or 
to cry.’ 

“ So she had come home to fit up a room which 
should be always his, and which should accord with 
all his whims. Once he had pointed to the leaf of 
a coleus, and asked her why no woman ever com- 


MARV LOWE AT HOME 


293 


bined just those shades of green and red in an even- 
ing costume. She then experimented with them a 
little in the way of ribbons, and delighted him so 
much that she resolved to decorate the room in 
those colors. She spent all day Friday and Satur- 
day upon this. The' walls were beautifully painted, 
and she had found at Albany an elegant Turkish rug 
of just the right tints ; but the curtains gave her in- 
finite trouble. She could not finish the room in time 
to take the early train on Monday ; so to carry out 
this little whim for him she did what nothing had 
ever induced her to do for herself — kept away from 
school, and telegraphed him that she must stay an- 
other day. 

“Just too late for the morning train there came a 
telegram urging her to come at once, and speaking 
of ‘ sore trouble ’. Mary was in great distress, won- 
dering what could have occasioned such a message. 
She took the afternoon express, but that ran into a 
freight-train beyond Schenectady, and delayed her 
nearly two hours. You can imagine how impatiently 
she endured it ; for the telegram had spoken of a 
board-meeting that evening, and she would now be 
too late to attend it. 

“ She hurried to the rooms at once, however, and 
found the board still in session. At her first glance 
she saw that Mr. Hume looked troubled, and that 
some serious matter was under discussion. She was 
not left to wonder long ; for her Uncle Aleck, who is 


294 


RODERICK HUME 


president of the board, spoke right out in his blunt 
way : ‘ Mary, it has been discovered that somebody 
opened the Regents’ Questions beforehand, and Mr. 
Hume here says you did it ! ’ 

“ To understand her consternation, you must know 
that on the day before the examination she had 
started to enter Mr. Hume’s room, and had found 
him cutting open one of the envelopes with his pen- 
knife. She had been so amazed that she ran out of 
the room and out of the building, and never stopped 
hurrying till she reached her room. A moment’s re- 
flection, however, had convinced her that she was in 
error. That he should even contemplate such a thing 
as looking at the questions was clearly impossible. 
She had mistaken either his act or the significance 
of it. So she had dropped it out of her thoughts. 

“ Now it came back again, and all the circum- 
stances were clear. He had opened the envelope, he 
had used the questions, he had been detected, and he 
had shielded himself by accusing her. She almost 
fainted, and asked leave to retire a moment. Mr. 
Hume followed her, and offered some weak apology. 
She could not endure his humiliation. She passed 
by him without a word, offered her resignation as a 
teacher, and came home the next morning. And she 
has never seen him since.” 

“ Poor child, poor child,” sighed Aunt Julia ; “ how 
she must despise him ! ” 

“ No, Julia, that is the mystery of it,” replied Mrs. 


MARY LOIVE AT HOME 


295 


Lowe. “ She tried to, and certainly there is every 
reason that she should, but she cannot. She loves 
him to-day more deeply than ever. Last week we 
had a letter from her Uncle Aleck. He spoke with 
contempt of Mr. Hume, and ended with the news 
that he was understood to be engaged to Miss Blar- 
ston, one of his oldest scholars, a girl with more 
money than manners. 

“ When I looked up from reading the letter Mary’s 
face was turned away. She was looking absently far 
down the lake, and presently I saw a tear, and then 
another, roll down her cheek. 

“ ‘ Mary, child,’ I said gently, ‘ have you no pride ’ 

“‘Yes, mamma,’ she replied; ‘and if she would 
only make him happy I wouldn’t mind. But she is 
coarse, unprincipled, reckless. Why, mamma, she 
isn’t even tidy, and he so scrupulous about his linen. 
It will be misery, misery. O mamma ! how can I en- 
dure it } How can I ” 

And Mrs. Lowe sobbed. Her daughter’s happiness 
was all she had to live for. 


296 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE KNOT LOOSENED 

W HEN Mary Lowe returned home she was 
strangely excited. 

“ Did you get the place } asked her mother. 

“ No, mamma dear, but I got something better.” 
“ What is that ? ” 

“A suspicion.” 

“ Of what } ” 

The truth, mamma.” 

Mary spoke confidently, proudly, cheerfully. So 
her mother asked, — 

What have you heard from him, Mary ^ ” 

“ Not a word, mamma.” 

Mary was happy enough to be roguish. 

Please, Mary.” 

Well, mamma, come into the dining-room while I 
get lunch, and I will tell you all about it. 

You know Dr. Jarvis, a retired clergyman, is the 
leading trustee, and the one who first wrote to me. 
So I went right to his house, feeling sure he would 
be glad to see me, and hopeful that he would tell me 
I was already elected. 

“ But he received me coldly, almost hesitated to in- 


THE KNOT LOOSENED 


297 


vite me into the house, and spent two minutes in 
looking over my head and clearing his throat before 
he said a word. I waited, partly because it was his 
place to speak first, and partly because I had some 
curiosity to see how he would emerge from his em- 
barrassment. 

“ Presently he said, — 

‘‘ ‘ I — aw — suppose you came to see about the 
vacant position. Miss Lowe ? ’ 

“ I intimated that as he had invited me to call on 
him at just this time upon just that business his sup- 
position was reasonable and correct. 

“ ‘ Well,’ he said, ^ I — aw — that is, the board. Miss 
Lowe — in short, I don’t think they will make any 
choice just at present.’ 

‘ Indeed,’ I said, ‘ I had understood that the board 
was to meet this morning.’ 

“ ‘ Ye — es,’ he replied ; ‘ they had thought some of 
it, but they have concluded to — in fact, to defer it.’ 

‘‘‘Dr. Jarvis,’ I said, ‘at the invitation of the 
board of trustees, delivered through you, I drove ten 
miles this morning to meet you, and I think I am en- 
titled to be told frankly why you have so suddenly 
changed your minds in regard to my application.’ 

“ ‘ Why, I have not said ’ — he began ; but I inter- 
» rupted him. 

“‘No,’ I replied, ‘you have not said anything, and 
it is of that I complain. You received my applica- 
tion favorably ; you told me its acceptance would be 


298 


RODERICK HUME 


a matter of form, and you urged me to come here to- 
day. I have the right to ask you either to make good 
my expectations or to tell me why you cannot do so. 
I suppose you hesitate to tell me the reason becau.se 
you fear to pain me ; but no reason could be so pain- 
ful as the intimation that the reason is too painful to 
be told. ’ 

“ You see, mamma, I supposed the reason was that 
the trustees had found some one they liked better, 
and I was annoyed that Dr. Jarvis should try to 
shuffle out of telling me so. But my words were 
unfortunately chosen. He straightened up and looked 
at me severely, as if he thought me impertinent. 

“ ‘ 1 would willingly have spared your feelings,’ he 
said coldly ; ‘ but if you insist upon it I must speak 
plainly. We are informed that you were obleeged to 
resign your position at Norway, Miss Lowe, and we 
have been told why.’ 

“ Mamma, I was struck dumb. Somehow it had 
never seemed to me that anybody could really think 
I opened these examination-papers. Mr. Humoknew 
the facts, and Uncle Aleck knew me, and I did not 
dwell upon what other people thought. I was sorry 
to leave under such circumstances, but I never re- 
flected that my resignation would sully my reputa- 
tion. Just think how I felt, mamma, when it flashed 
across me that in the eyes of the world my father’s 
daughter was a dishonest person, unfit to be a teacher 
of children ! ” 


THE KXOT LOOSE X ED 


299 


Mary Lowe flushed to her finger-tips, and her tears 
glistened ; but she smiled bravely through them and 
continued, — 

“ I was overwhelmed, and of course I looked guilty. 
Indeed, my cheeks tingled. It seemed to me I could 
never show my face in public lest I sliould see every 
finger pointing at me, and hear mockery from every 
tongue. I rose, and stammered that I would with- 
draw my application. I should have gone without 
another word had not Dr. Jarvis prevented me. 
When he saw that I was utterly stricken down, and 
had no word of defence to interpose, he swelled up 
with dignity, and said with crushing sarcasm, — 

“‘You have many of the requisities of a good 
teacher. Miss Lowe ; and you came very nigh to 
imposing upon us, experienced as some of us are 
in reading human nature. But remember this. Miss 
Lowe : the one indispensable requisite in a teacher 
is a good moral character. Lacking that, your ac- 
complishments and graces are but sounding brass 
and tinkling cymbals. You are still comparatively 
young, and it is not too late for you to redeem your 
good name. Let me, as your friend, urge you to 
strive for this ; and let me add ’ (he said this with a 
sort of exultation, mamma), ‘ let me add that all true 
repentance is based upon hufiiility.’ 

“ Even in my distress I pitied a man so near his 
grave who could gratify vindictiveness under the 
gloss of professional duty. But I made no reply, and 


300 


RODERfCK HUME 


would still have bowed myself out of his presence 
had he not detained me by his eagerness to chafe 
still further the misery of a helpless girl. 

Yes,’ he continued, ‘you came very nigh to im- 
posing upon us, and we shall deem it our dooty to 
send a circulai* letter to other institootions explaining 
why we rejected your application. We should sar- 
tinly have hired you if in his watchful providence the 
Almighty had not put it into the heart of your former 
principal to write to us and tell us the whole story.’ 

“ I forgot everything else then, mamma, and I 
asked him eagerly, — ^ 

“ ‘ Do you mean to say that you had a letter about 
me from Mr. Hume .V 

“He seemed puzzled to account for my change of 
manner, but he replied, — 

“ ‘ Sartinly I have a letter from Professor Hume 
about you. It was from that letter that we learned 
the fax.’ 

“ I paused for a minute, mamma. Of course I 
knew Mr. Hume never wrote any such letter. It has 
been hard enough to believe that he could have ac- 
cused me, even in a moment of sudden temptation 
and to save himself ; and at the board-meeting that 
night he was on the point of rushing out to confess 
it, when I brushed by him and resigned my position. 
That he should follow me maliciously, and try to 
injure me elsewhere, was simply inconceivable. So 
hq did not write- this letter, and of course somebody 


THE KNOT LOOSENED 


301 

else had forged his name. Whoever did that must 
be bold as well as malicious. What if there was some 
plot about the Regents Questions ivhich deceived Rod- 
erick and me both ? All this flashed through my mind 
in an instant. I trembled with excitement. I must 
see that letter. How should I get it from this un- 
happy old Pharisee Evidently by exasperating him. 
So I said, — 

“ ‘ I don’t believe Mr. Hume ever wrote any such 
letter, Dr. Jarvis ; he is too much of a gentleman to 
say anything unkind of one of his fellow-teachers.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! he is, is he } ’ and Dr. Jarvis fairly giggled 
with exultation. Just as I had hoped, he trotted up 
to his desk, took out the letter, handed it to me, and 
stood ready to gloat over my distress at its venomous 
insinuations. 

“ A glance showed me that my suspicions were 
correct. The handwriting bore no resemblance 
whatever to Mr. Hume’s, and the letter was an im- 
pudent forgery. I looked it over quietly, refolded it, 
replaced it in the envelope, and put it into my 
pocket. 

“ ‘ I beg your pardon, young woman,’ said Dr. Jar- 
vis, ‘but that letter is mine.’ 

“ ‘ That letter, sir, is a forgery,’ I replied, in a tone 
that startled him, and compelled him once more to 
treat me respectfully. ‘ It is the first proof I have 
found of a plot which underlies this whole matter, 
and it may lead you to apologize for the language you 


RODEklCK lHJ.hU> 


56 ^ 

have used to-day. Allow me to bid you good morn- 
ing.’ 

“He stumbled over some words of regret if he had 
been hasty, and I left him before he had recovered 
from his confusion. Poor Nina had to trot home in 
a hurry, and, mamma, there is the letter.” 

It was written in a large hand, with a fine pen, and 
read as follows : — 

“Norway, May 25, 1875. 

Rev. Obadiah Jarvis, D.D. 

Reverend Sir, — Learning that you were about to engage 
Miss Lowe as preceptress of your academy, I deem it my duty 
to inform you that she resigned her position her last term just 
in time to escape being turned out by the Board of Education. 
She was open to suspicion in many ways, but the offence for 
which she was directly discharged was breaking the lock to 
my private drawer, opening the sealed envelopes of Regents’ 
Questions on the night before the examination, stealing one of 
the slips, and using it to drill her class before the examination 
the next day. Fortunately she was detected and at once forced 
to resign. In the interest of education I feel compelled to make 
this known, as we cannot too jealously guard the nurseries of 
our children from any taint of deception, not to speak of other 
charges against her character. 

^ Yours respectfully, 

! Roderick Hume, 

j Principal No'nvay Free High School and 

College Preparatory Institution." 


^ //4. < 


Wli kivot UK' TIED 


SOS 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE KNOT UNTIED 

H alf an hour after Mary Lowe had finished her 
luncheon she saw Cynthia Brown coming up 
the hill. 

Cynthia Brown was whimsical, improvident, un- 
lucky, always cheerful, and altogether charming. 
She was an orphan, with plenty of money and an 
aunt who wept over her and worshipped her. She 
was born irrepressible. She was artless and yet 
adroit, versatile and yet constant, always in trouble 
and always in high spirits. She never did a thing 
when she ought to, or as she ought to, and she never 
missed an opportunity to do the thing she ought not 
to. As a child her fun always bubbled over at a 
funeral, and when she was confirmed she drew in her 
prayer-book a capital caricature of the bishop. 

Just before she got to the house she suddenly sank 
down on the walk and signalled to Mary. 

“ Give me a pin, dear, do,” she said, “ my skirt is 
coming off. I hoped it would last me up to the 
house, but the top pin was bent and didn’t hold. 

“ You see,” she continued placidly, as Mary helped 
her to reorganize her apparel, “ Auntie has been try- 


304 


kODERIClC HUME 


ing for three years to induce me to do my own mend- 
ing. I made lots of promises and lots of trials, but 
all in vain, for there is nothing which I so perfectly 
detest. So the old dearie finally cried over it one 
whole night, and then told me in the morning that 
nobody but myself should take a stitch in my clothes 
for six months. That was five months ago, and I 
haven’t taken a stitch in them either ; so you see 
I am pretty thoroughly pinned up. I hadn’t pins 
enough to go around when I dressed this afternoon, 
hence the catastrophe. Lucky it wasn’t a down- 
town girl I was calling on.” 

When they had entered the house, — 

“ I have come to beg a preposterous favor,” said 
Cynthia. “You know I graduate at Mountain Grove 
next month ; or rather my class does, for Professor 
Miller won’t let anybody graduate who hasn’t passed 
the Regents’ Examination. That’s my Slough of 
Despond. I have tried eleven times, and by good 
luck I have got through everything but arithmetic.” 

“ You don’t mean to say you have passed in spell- 
ing } ” laughed Mary Lowe, who was so exact in 
everything herself that it rested her to contemplate 
this big, unmethodical, good-natured creature. 

“ But I did, the very last time,” laughed Cynthia in 
turn. “ I got just eighty-five words right. I wasn’t 
sure about ‘ gauge,’ so I wrote the a and the // so 
nearly alike that nobody knew which was which ; in 
fact, I didn’t know myself, and I don’t know now 


THE KNOT UNTIED 


305 

which way the word is spelled. However, I got 
through on it. 

“ But the arithmetic was awful, Mary. Just see 
here,” and she drew the questions from her pocket. 

“ ‘ 3. How many peaches in an orchard of 14 rows of trees, 
each row having 27 trees, and each tree 108 peaches ? ’ 

“Just think of trying to solve such a problem 
as that! ‘Each tree 108 peaches,’ indeed; as if 
there ever was any such distressing uniformity as 
that in nature. For my part, when I struck that 
example I turned over my paper and sketched a pic- 
ture of that symmetrical orchard, with twelve men 
picking apples in three motions, as the soldiers 
‘ order arms ’ on parade. When I showed it to Lina 
Stevens, and she began to giggle, old Dr. Gardiner 
came bustling up in great distress, and said he was 
sorry to see me violate the rules of the examination 
by giving assistance to my neighbor. He was going 
on to be very severe, when I showed him the picture. 
He looked at it a minute, and then he put his hand- 
kerchief up to his mouth, turned red in the face, and 
finally snickered, absolutely snickered, like a little 
girl. I thoughc Dr. Gardiner tittering was glory 
enough for one day ; and it was all the glory I got, 
for this took so much time that I only worked out 
seven of the twelve problems.” 

“ O Cynthia, Cynthia I ” sighed Mary, “ what will 
become of you ? ” 


3 o 6 RODERICK HUME 

“ I don’t know. At any rate, it made no difference 
that time, for the examples next day were horrible. 
Think of this : — 

“‘24. A man, being asked his age, replied, if you add to 
its half its third, and three times three, the sum will be 130 ; 
what was his age ? ’ 

“ Now what kind of a problem is that to offer a 
guileless maiden } Not to allude to the lesson in 
discourtesy implied in so rude an answer, his age 
turns out to be 145! years; just as if a man 145 
years old would spend his time in conjuring up 
conundrums like that.” 

Cynthia paused in her raillery, for she saw that 
Mary was intensely excited. 

“ Let me see the paper,” said Miss Lowe, and 
she scanned it eagerly. 

“You will excuse me just a moment, Cynthia.?” 
she asked, and ran hurriedly up-stairs. From a shelf 
in her closet she took down her book of problems, 
turned to the last written page, and compared it with 
the printed slip. 

“ I knew it, I knew it,” .she sobbed, as her mother 
entered. “ O mamma ! Mr. Hume was honest after 
all, and I did use the problems. O mamma, mamma! 
I must go to Norway on the very next train.” 

There were two hours to spare ; plenty of time 
to give poor Cynthia the help she wanted. So Mary 
bathed her eyes, resolutely repressed her excitement, 


The kwot untied 


307 

and sat with Cynthia for a full hour, reviewing her 
arithmetic, pointing out the weak places, and show- 
ing her on what to spend her time till the examina- 
tion next week. 

When Cynthia had kissed her a grateful good-by, 
pinned up the lining to her sleeve, and gone tripping 
happily down the walk, Mary ran up-stairs again, and 
spent half of the time of preparation for her journey 
in hugging her mother and telling her how joyful 
she was. 

Her Uncle Aleck stood aghast when a little veiled 
figure rushed into the house and into his arms that 
evening ; and his astonishment was not lessened 
when the veil was lifted, and a gleeful voice ejacu- 
lated between the kisses, — 

“O Uncle Aleck! — I am so happy — Mr. Hume 
really believes — that I stole the questions ” — 

“And how does that make you happy.?” asked 
Mr. Marvin, holding her at arms’ length ta see if 
she was in her right mind. 

“ Aleck, Aleck,” interrupted Mrs. Marvin with 
fond pity, “ you are a good husband and a kind 
uncle, but you will never be anything but a man. 
You foolish old darling, don’t you see that she loves 
him .? ” 


3o8 


RODERICK HUME 


CHAPTER XXV.- 

AUF WIEDERSEHEN 

HP2N Mary Lowe entered the room where the 



V V board-meeting was held, everybody but Mr. 
Marvin was startled. Vic Blarston gave her one 
glance, and then fixed her eyes in sullen silence upon 
the floor. Roderick sprang to his feet, and then 
sank down again as though he had no right to 
approach her. Mr. Blarston looked at his daughter 
with increasing uneasiness. Jim Dormouse’s little 
black eyes twinkled with the gratification of a man 
who is always found in the end to have been on 
the right side all through. The Stones looked 
uneasy; Miss Bell was jubilant ; Charley Pease softly 
clapped his hands as a sign of welcome to his favorite 
teacher. 

“ Mary,” said Mr. Marvin, “ have you heard Miss 
Blarston’s story ” 

“ I have, sir.” 

“ Is it true } ” 

“ In some parts it is true. The problems were 
copied into my book, unknown to me, and I gave 
them to my class. But Mr. Hume was not informed 
that I intended to hold an extra recitation until the 


AITF ivied ERSE hen 


309 


morning of the examination ; my book of problems 
was not left in the schoolhouse, and Mr. Hume 
did not copy the questions into it, or know of its 
being done. 

“I owe Mr. Hume an apology. The last time 
I was in this room I stated to the board, as I then 
believed, that Mr. Hume knew all the facts, in the 
case. I have since learned that he did not know 
them, but that we were both the victims of a con- 
spiracy.” 

“ Can you give the details of that conspiracy } ” 
continued Mr. Marvin. 

“ I can. After school, on the day of the exami- 
nation, I told my class that I should give them a 
special recitation the next day, and 1 asked one of 
the girls to take home my book of problems and 
copy into it a page of examples from a new arith- 
metic just sent me for examination. The young 
lady herself will tell you what followed.” 

Miss Lowe turned toward the door to the inner 
room, and Lilly Hathaway came out. Her eyes 
were red, but they flashed indignation at Vic Blar- 
stpn’s impassive figure. 

“ Yes, I can tell the whole story,” she said ; and 
she told it as follows: — 

She took the book home, and intended to copy 
the problems that evening. Just after tea Vic Blar- 
ston came to call on her. This was an unusual visit 
in itself, and the more unusual because she kept 


310 


RODERICK HUME 


Staying and staying and staying. Finally Lilly was 
obliged to remind her that she had promised Miss 
Lowe to copy these problems that night, and that 
she must be doing it before she was too sleepy. At 
once Vhc astonished her by offering to read them for 
her to copy. Of course Lilly was^ glad to have her 
do so, • and handed her the book. Vic held it so 
perpendicular and so close to her face that Lilly 
asked her if she was growing near-sighted ; and once, 
when Lilly did not quite understand the figures, and 
rose to look at the book, Vic was confused, and 
dropped a slip of paper which Lilly now remembered 
to have been of the size and appearance of the stolen 
e.xamination paper. Lilly had to-day compared the 
})ages she wrote with the page she was to copy and 
the examination paper, and had disco\ered that as 
Vic read she inserted the last six examination ques- 
tions among the questions given on the page of the 
arithmetic. Of course Lilly wrote them all just as 
they were read to her, and when she gave the hook 
to Miss Lowe she told her she had copied the i:)rob- 
lems given. As Miss Lowe did not stay to the ex- 
amination, she did not discover this deception ; and 
as Lilly had already passed in arithmetic, and did not 
enter the examination, she did not find it out. But 
as soon as Miss Lowe sent for her to-dav, and 
showed her the two books and the slip of ques- 
tions, she recalled every circumstance, and knew at 
pqce that Xhp Blarston had stolen the paper. 


A[/F WIEDEFSEHEX 


3II 

Then Miss Lowe took up the chain of evidence, 
supplied the missing links, and concluded by display- 
ing the forged letter to Dr. Jarvis, with specimens 
of Vic’s handwriting which clearly revealed the 
culprit. 

This testimony created intense excitement, in the 
midst of which all eyes turned upon Mr. Blarston. 
He seemed to be choking, as he asked of his daugh- 
ter hoarsely, — 

“ Vic, is all this true ” 

The girl had never stirred during Miss Lowe’s re- 
cital ; but when her father spoke she slowly rose to 
her feet and looked defiantly over the room. 

“ Yes, father,” she said, ‘‘ all this is true. I opened 
the envelope, I took out the paper, I inserted the 
questions, and I wrote the letter to Dr. Jarvis. I did 
all this to injure Miss Lowe. Do you want to know 
Avhy } It is because I hate her ! ” 

It was terrible to hear Victoria utter these words. 
There was a venom in her tone that made the listener 
shudder. Her eyes glittered balefull}^ her every 
muscle quivered with passion long-repressed, and her 
words poured forth in a torrent too violent to be 
stayed. 

“Yes, I hate her,” she said. “When she first 
came here I worshipped her. I saw in her the re- 
finement of a born lady. I had groped blindly for 
this. When I saw it I knew it, and I said, ‘ It shall 
.So I hung- abotU her, ask^cj her questions^ 


312 


RODERICK HUME 


obtruded my little services, and tried to imitate 
her. 

“ But she instinctively disliked me. I did not 
wonder at it ; but it hurt me. She shrank from my 
touch, she saw nothing to commend in me, she 
singled me out as the one scholar in whom there was 
no good. Presently she detected me in a falsehood. 
A lie was nothing to me. I hadn’t thought of it as 
being particularly wrong. If she had talked with me 
kindly I should never have told another. But she 
disgraced me before the class, referred to it again and 
again, and despised me more than ever. 

“ I began to hate her ; but I did not lose courage. 
I only imitated her more closely, and I knew I was 
making progress. 

“Then Mr. Hume came. He found something 
good in me. Especially he commended my compo- 
sitions, and I often sat up all night to write them. 
Then came the prize contest. I worked too hard, I 
wore myself out, and I could not satisfy myself. At 
the last moment I read the poor little essay I had 
prepared ; I knew it would disappoint Mr. Hume, and 
I tore it into strips. What could I do } What I 
had often done, like other girls, I copied a page or 
two from a book I knew Mr. Hume had not read. I 
got the approval I thirsted for ; I almost got the 
prize. Just as I was to grasp it, Miss Lowe crossed 
my path with a volume of Thoreau. Instead of 
honor I got disgrace, Worse than that, I lost all 


Al/F W/EDERSEHEAT 


313 


progress I had gained in Mr. Hume’s esteem, and I 
had to begin way back and toil again up the long, 
steep hill. 

In the meantime came the accident to the steam 
apparatus, which made Miss Lowe a heroine. When 
Mr. Hume began to love her, I discovered that I 
loved him. I could see within myself the germ of 
something better than I had dreamed of. I knew he 
had planted it there, and he alone could develop it. 

“‘He 77tttst be mine ! ’ I said to myself, and I 
schemed to make him mine. I probed Miss Lowe’s 
history, her habits, her every action. If there had 
been a flaw, I should have found it and displayed it. 
There was none. There is none. I confess that. 
She is innocent, because she never felt a wrong im- 
pulse. And yet I tell you here and now, that in all 
my wicked life I never committed such a sin as she 
commits this moment, when she sits there without 
a thought of sympathy for me, who have felt wrong 
impulses, and have struggled harder to be no worse 
than I am than she ever did to be perfect. 

“ No, you needn’t interrupt me ; I only want to tell 
my story. 

“ I could find no flaw in her character, so 1 had to 
attack her reputation. You know what I did, and 
how I succeeded. And little by little, I thought Mr. 
Hume was learning to love me. He liked to be with 
me, and he so lifted me out of myself into what was 
nobler and better that I felt he must find something 
to care for in me, 


314 


RODERICK HUME 


“ One night I tried an experiment. I sang him a 
little song that was a favorite with Miss Lowe. I 
saw 1 had made a mistake. He grew uneasy and dis- 
tant ; and when he went away I knew that I had lost 
ground, and that I was still far, far from supplanting 
Miss Lowe. 

“ I felt bitter toward her ; and when father came 
home and read in a paragraph from a business let- 
ter that she was to be engaged as preceptress at 
Ipswich, I vented my spite in the forged letter. It 
was a silly thing to do- — a womanly Weakness. I 
could gain nothing by it, and I knew I was risking 
the success of what I could gain everything by. 

“ Then came Mrs. Percival’s party and the auto- 
graph album. 

“ Allow me to return your property,” she said, 
taking the album from her pocket and handing it 
to Roderick, who received it in dumb amazement. 
Then she continued : — 

“ I learned there that I had been but sport to Mr. 
Hume. In his private thoughts he called me a 
creature, and compared my singing to the croaking 
of a raven. Mr. Hume, with all my faults and all 
my sins I loved you with my whole heart, and I tell 
you the day will come when you will regret that you 
.turned an honest affection into ridicule. 

“ And I tell you all,” she said, rising to her full 
height, and speaking with dramatic power, “ I tell 
you ^11 that the day shall be when you will be proud 


AC/F W/EDFFSEffFA^ 


315 


that you once knew me — me, whom you despise to- 
night. I have the power and I have the will to 
make a name the world shall remember. 

“ Miss Lowe, you shall have your Roderick. I 
have fought for him, and I have lost him ; but I tell 
you the day shall be when he sits in your humdrum 
household and reflects with chagrin on what he might 
have been, had not your faultless, passionless counte- 
nance come between him and a woman who, under- 
neath her faults, has a power for loving and for 
action that you never dreamed of. 

“ Father,” and she turned to him, “your daughter 
has thus far brought you only disgrace ; but trust 
her still, and you shall yet be proud of her.” 

“ I am proud of you now,” said John Blarston, 
standing beside her and throwing his arm around her. 

“ Mr. President, and gentlemen of the board,” he 
continued, “as a simple business transaction I shall 
of course pay into your treasurer’s hands the salary 
which Miss Lowe would have received for the pres- 
ent term. I pay for the damage my daughter has 
done, as I would pay for a light of glass she broke 
when a child. This, of course, admits of no discus- 
sion. 

“ And now, gentlemen, I move that Miss Lowe be 
elected preceptress of this school, to take effect from 
the date of her resignation.” 

After the vote wa§ carried Mr, Blarston coiv 
timK-cl, — 


3i6 


RODERICK HUME 


“ And further, gentlemen, I offer my resignation 
as a member of this board. I have made money 
enough, and I shall close up my business and leave 
this place. 

“ I am now free to say to you all that this is the 
proudest moment of my life, and that I would not 
miss one word of my daughter’s story, or one act of 
what led to it, for fifty thousand dollars. Gentle- 
men and ladies, good-evening.” 

When Mr. Blarston and his daughter had left the 
room, sighs of suspended feeling arose. Vic Blars- 
ton’s outburst had been so sudden, so violent, and so 
astounding ; her father’s dignity had been so unusual 
and so near the heroic pitch ; his resignation and 
Miss Lowe’s reinstatement had been so sudden, — 
that the persons present all looked at one another in 
silence. 

Presently Mr. Dormouse spoke, — 

“ The matter of the Regents’ Examination having 
been disposed of,” he said slowly, “ I suppose the 
next business before the board is Mr. Hume’s recom- 
mendation that these nine boys be suspended until 
apology is rendered.” 

“ Before that question is considered,” said Rod- 
erick, who had been examining the book with vexa- 
tion, “ I should like to know how Miss Blarston got 
possession of this album, and what she meant by 
referring to it in connection with Mrs. Percival’s 
party.” 


Ai/F WIEDERSEilE^r 


317 

“Why, that is easily explained,” said Mr. Marvin 
testily. “ Captain Stone stole your album and gave 
it to his wife. She showed it to the boys at Mrs. 
Percival’s party. Some of them did not feel com- 
plimented by your opinions of them, and they made 
you trouble the next day.” 

“It seems to me that we had better first con- 
sider what action is due to Captain Stone and his 
wife for this infamous mischief-making,” said Tom 
Baker. 

“ I think so too,” said Mr. Marvin ; “ and I shall be 
glad to listen to some motion, unless Captain Stone 
has an explanation to make.” 

Captain Stone fidgeted, but offered no explanation ; 
and Mr. Baker moved that both Captain Stone and 
his wife be dropped from the list of teachers. 

“ But you can’t drop us that way,” said Captain 
Stone, after a moment’s consultation with Mr. An- 
gell. “ We are hired for the term, and cannot be 
discharged except for some fault in our work as 
teachers.” 

“Captain Stone is right,” said Mr. Dormouse; 
“ there must be some reason appended to the motion 
or it will not be legal.” 

“That can be easily arranged,” said Mr. Marvin. 
“ You don’t consider these people very capable 
teachers, do you, Mr. Hume } ” 

“ Why, as to that,” replied Roderick carefully, “ I 
do consider Captain Stone a good teacher of penman- 


3 1 8 . Robr^RiCK iWMi^. 

ship. He knows his business and is thorough. I 
was opposed to the employment of a special teacher ; 
but I must admit that the scholars have made im- 
provement under him. 

“ Mrs. Stone is not as good a teacher, but her 
work does not differ enough from that of the other 
teachers to warrant her discharge while they are 
retained.” 

Captain Stone looked at Roderick in surprise ; but 
to himself Roderick’s reply was very simple. He 
had been asked as to a fact, and he had no right to 
color the fact by any personal feeling of his own. 

“ Then, I don’t see what we can do,” said Mr. 
Marvin, with some annoyance. 

“ It strikes me as very simple,” said Mr. Dormouse 
leisurely. “ I move as an amendment that Captain 
and Mrs. Stone be relieved from further duty in this 
school on account of conduct unbecoming a gentle- 
man and a lady.” 

“ I accept the amendment,” said Tom Baker ; and 
the motion as amended being promptly carried, the 
Stones retired in confusion. 

At this point Charley Pease arose, after consulta- 
tion with his comrades, and said, — 

“ If we may be allowed, we boys would like to beg 
Mr. Hume’s pardon right here. We have been made 
cat’s-paws, and we have burnt our fingers. If Mr. 
Hume will forgive us, and take us back, we will 
apologize before the school to-morrow ; and we 


Ai/F WIEDERSEHEN 3I9 

promise him he shall have no further occasion to 
doubt our loyalty to the school or to him.” 

Roderick hastened to shake hands with the boys, 
and the meeting was informally adjourned. Rod- 
erick kept talking busily with one and another until 
Miss Lowe had stepped into the adjoining room. 
Then he followed her. She Jield out both hands ; 
but he put them aside and threw his arms around 
her. All he said was, — 

“ Mary!” 

And she whispered, — 

“ Mine.” 


FINIS. 




r» r 






'>H 

«• 



<• 7 • ^ 

; ;l 

. ‘ 





r\ 


. 4 * ^ M 4 ms ^ ^ ^ 

i/^Ky> 



- \ ^ 


^ ' ' w 


'.V - -’■^■ 




. - - v;' - ' 




^ , ,X^ ' /". v; '. • • ■• • 


A. " ••* 







r.'i^-- 


•4 


•► # » .V 


* . • w 

. ••% > 

• Me . 



f 


■*• f 


.v» 


♦ . •>" 

I**’ 


* ‘ f ! V r - 


LvTi,' 


. > 


^ -.ir* 


-f 

» • 

« 




. .A 


,.-iv !L / 

“r ^u fs- -d '. 

'*.• •* - •*. -^ • *J r » 

t»- **’ - ''r ■ .• ^ '. • ^ ‘ 


. Tt.:r ' 


' 4 ^. 

•« 


*’ 'r ’• 'r ^ 

.<V -'• ^'»*-v ■ 


'7 %■> > ' 


■»*r- •'•?’-. 


S® 'i’i»'iv'-<» i.- 


i ^ > 



4dfcaSf^*‘ ^ ^ JiYl * V'* L- 

^'-t■ ^ ^ \ ■■ .-y ■''. . • - ‘ 

‘ . ^- • I ^ . V ■ (''■X'.- ..* , •• ■ , :,. 

yS, r< £r 'l' 

•-'.S'* 



’»• ^ 


''•'•ah » • 1 ^ 

n ; '• “.4.. ■■* 



•^rV2: ■'^' 


r*, “ V ' . 

* ' ► 


V * '. • 


» % 






« 

’ . >^S 
^ . - 


'kw 


"* ' *v ■ 5 ‘* - 

>v ’ ■- * 

V • - • -^ ^‘V - V ' 


A. 

• • 


•r . * • - ■'‘ * ** #'’-1 ■ ' ‘ mr~ '' 

■ - ■ , '-I ' ■ - .'3^.*' i^'- • £ 


. » 


> . 


L *• • 


• •' 


w 

*4 N* 


i 

■• « 


t»-\- 


'1*:, 

4 


.•C-% 


I' 

^ 4 


^ I 


iV-V ^ ^'. 'V ' .‘i.vf -•' ;. Mi. 



STANDAliD TEACHEKS’ LIBRARY, No 6 


RODERICK HUME 

The Story of a Ne>y York Teacher , 


This is one of the 22 best books for teachers recommended by 
Chancellor W. H. Payne in the New England Journal of Educa- 
tion for Nov., 1893. It is also one of the books described by W. 
M. Griswold in his “A Descriptive List of Novels and Tales 
dealing with American Country Life.” 

From testimonials received we quote the following : 

To me it teaches what I was obliged to learn by experience. — 
E. E. Cates, Principal High schools, Los Angeles. 

I have read Roderick Hume with pleasure and profit. It is a 
capital story. — Oen, Thos. J. Morgan, late Commissioner of In- 
dian Aifairs. 

Roderick Hume is a spicy story — equal to Dickens in my es- 
timation. — Principal E. A. Corhin, Albany. 

I should have acknowledged the receipt of Roderick Hume 
sooner had I not been confined to my room as an invalid, two 
weeks after it came. My confinement at home gave me an oppor- 
tunity to read it carefully, which I have done with great delight. 
I can certify that it is true to life. I have had experience in 
country and village schools as well as in the schools of the cities. 
The picture is true for all of them. I know too well how self- 
interest, jealousy, prejudice, and the whole host of meaner 
motives are likely to prevail in the management of school affairs 
anywhere. That the people should know this and yet entrust the 
management of their schools to men who are most likely to be 


2 


TESTIMONIALS OF 


influenced by personal considerations is strange indeed. — My 
memory brings to mind an original for every portrait you have 
drawn. — Andrew J. Rickoff, former Sup’t of Schools, Cleveland, O. 

Roderick Hume took possession of me, and the book was fin- 
ished in one sitting that lasted beyond the smallest hour. I have 
joined the crowd in your triumphal procession. The characters 
are as truly painted as as any in Dickens, and the moral is some- 
thing that cannot be dodged. — Prof. Edioard North, Hamiltor 
'College. 

Mr. Bardeen has evidently been a most observant man, not 
merely of what goes on inside the school room, but of all the 
outside influences connected with the teacher’s work. Most 
teachers will recognize the characters as old friends or foes. 
They will meet the different kinds of trustees, the ignorant, the 
officious, the inter-meddling, the men who have relations in the 
teaching profession, the men who are trustees merely for the ad- 
vantages their positions may throw in their way, and the good, 
practical, common-sense man who believes the well-trained 
teacher to be the best judge in matters relating to his own busi- 
ness. Teachers of many varieties meet the reader, some deserv- 
ing of esteem for the qualities of their heads and hearts, some ex- 
hibiting traits of character not to be admired. The lamentable 
fact that teachers are not true to each other receives a clear illus- 
tration. Election contests, school-book agents, the intense rival- 
ry of too many neighboring towns, and other weak points of the 
school system are faithfully portrayed. Teachers cannot fail 
to be greatly beaefitted by the reading of the book. Roderick’s 
address to his pupils is a compendium of the best points in 
the highest kind of school management. Miss Duzenberrie’s 
victory and Vic Blarston’s closing remarks ought to teach lessons 
of warning to many teachers who are even the most in earnest 
about their work. Mary Lowe is a beautiful model of a teacher, 
and no one will be surprised that Roderick should make her his 
helpmate instead of his assistant. It is a capital story, and we 
recommend it strongly to every Canadian teacher. Each one 
should get a copy for himself, as he will wish to read it more 
than once. — Inspector James L. Hughes, in Canadian School 
Journal. 


RODERICK HUME 


3 


I read your story Roderick Hume. I commenced it yesterday 
after dinner, was obliged to lay it aside in the afternoon and go 
to my office. Took it up again in the evening, and when I fin- 
ished it, I found it was past midnight. Comment in regard to 
its being an interesting story is unnecessary. Congratulations ! 
You have made a hit. — Sup’t Andrew McMill :n, Utica. 

There is nothing monotonous in the story. Events move rap- 
idly into a dark labyrinth of misunderstandings, and consequent 
troubles, wrongs and miseries ; and rush even more quickly out 
again into the clear light and room where righteousness and truth 
are triumphant. No profound and mystical analysis of the ut- 
most depths of human nature is attempted, but the characters 
(some of them doubtless drawn from life) are definite, natural and 
full of vigor. Some of the evils of our school system are set 
forth with undeniable accuracy and force. Certain features of 
private and of public schools are held up for deserved condemna- 
tion, though how to remove them is not so plainly told. The 
unfavorable showing is, however, not without value ; for the 
first step toward improving a thing is to know wherein it needs 
to be improved. 

Men as miserly as Mr, Hogoboom, as deceitful as Prof. Cobb, 
as hypocritical and base as Mr. Abrams, as uniformly wise and 
reliable as Mr. Dormouse, and as awkwardly upright as Prof. 
Hume, it would not be hard to find. Easily too could one dis- 
cover women as quietly efficient, faithful and cultured as Miss 
Lowe, as gushing as Miss Bell, and female plotters against worth 
and innocence whose malignity equals the fiendish cruely and 
ingenuity by which Vic Blarston tried to secure the man with 
whom she had gratuitously fallen in love. Politics and the school 
book business are also well portrayed. One need not be a teach- 
er, nor a book agent, nor a school officer, to appreciate the ex- 
citing situations and the abundant merits of this story. — Prof. E, 
D. Blakeslee, in the Potsdam Courier and Freeman. 

I did not want to eat or sleep till I had read it all. One of my 
school directors picked it up from the table and read a page or 
two, and though he is a man who reads but little he begged the 
loan of it to read it all. He said it is so applicable to the average 


4 


TESTIMONIALS OF 


school-board. 1 shall circulate it through my county, and hope 
to have all my school directors read it and apply its teaching. — 
Sup’t C. W. Foreman, Meeker, Colo. 

Somewhere in the early part of this century was published a 
book, half humorous, half descriptive, called “The District 
School as It Was”. It was in striking contrast to “Roderick 
Hume ; the Story of a New York Teacher The scene was 
laid in New England, which gave a local quality to be allowed 
for ; but, all allowance made, there is a mighty change in the 
fifty years between the two stories. Then literature was culti- 
vated, ’if not “on a little oat-meal”, yet on the sternest condi- 
tions. Short sessions, scant salaries, severe discipline necessary 
to induce the refractory flock to begin the ascent to Parnassus, 
were the rule, and the teacher’s place was supposed to be held 
by stress of necessity. The times change, however, and we 
change with them, and trust-funds, endowments, and shrewd 
speculation play a prominent part in the more recent story. To 
furnish a marketable article is the object of the school manage- 
ment, and the reputation and capacities of the teacher are points 
to be scored in the game. The under-teachers are a powerful 
and well-connected body, and school events are also village 
events. The book is vivacious, and the author knows the ground 
he describes . — The Nation. 

Roderick Hume is one of the few books we have that treats of 
the romance of the school-room and the life of the teacher. The 
author strikes out in a new path, and acquits himself creditably 
In Roderick’s story the teacher will find his own experience 
repeated. We cordially commend the volume to the fraternity, 
assuring them that its perusal will dissipate man}'^ a dark cloud 
which casts its shadow over their pathway. Its pages teem with 
the verification of the adage that “truth is stranger than fiction ”, 
and its flashes of wit will amply repay the investment . — The 
Teacher. 

It has been said that the proof of the success of a story is the 
inability of the reader to lay it down unfinished. Judged from 
this standpoint “ Roderick Hume ” is eminently successful, for 
one must be a very poor novel reader not to feel interested in 
the hero’s career from first to Educational Weekly. 


RODERICK HUME 


5 


This capital story appeared serially in the Bulletin. That it 
goes to the mark is evident from the fact that many a teacher in 
the State imagined that he or she was the prototype of this or 
that character introduced. It is a genre painting, as the exper- 
ienced denizens of the school world will readily see when they 
look upon it. To the overworked and harrassed teacher, we 
say, get the book, read it, laugh and be comforted. — Wis. Jour- 
nal of Ed'n. 

The plot is very simple ; yet it possesses, in a marked degree, 
that quality of all good stories which leads the reader to expect 
a different denouement and retains his interest to the end. — 
Practical Teacher. 

The school journal serials, with pedagogic heroes and heroines, 
are not often worth reading, either for recreation or professional 
edifying. It is with all the more pleasure that we welcome this 
bright, witty, vividly-told story, which is not only interesting 
reading, but contains many a profitable hint and suggestion 
which the pedagogue will do well ‘ ‘ when found, to make a note 
on”. It makes us quite _ proud tnat one of the craft has written 
so good a story. — Iowa Normal Monthly. 

It describes in a quiet masterly way a few traits of the school 
system of the State of New York. Some scenes are drawn with 
wonderful truth from actual life, as e. g. the one in which a 
change of text books is proposed. The author is certainly a 
shrewd psychologist, — Erziehungs Blnetter {translated). 

Much as we have heard of education in the United States, very 
few English masters will be familiar with the term “Union 
School ” as an American educational institution. 

The book before us is well calculated to furnish enlightenment 
on this point. It is a story “written to depict certain phases of 
the modern Union School ”, which is evidently to the people 
of the United States very much what the Middle Class School 
is in this country, considerable allowance being made for 
the very wide differences of circumstances, educational and 
national, of the two countries. The volume reaches us by inter- 
national book post from the transatlantic publishers, and we do 
not know that copies are purchasable in this country except by 


6 


TESTIMONIALS OF 


special order at some such house as that of Messrs. Trilbner. 
Were it, therefore, a common-place work we should feel that we 
had done our duty by it if we gave little more than a brief 
acknowledgment of its reception. But it is not an ordinary or 
common-place book, and it ought to come under the attention of 
readers in the mother country. It is in the first place an admir- 
able story, keen, humorous, incisive, full of evidence of a fine 
and ready knowledge of human nature on the part of the author, 
and offering the best possible proof of the possession by him of 
the genuine faculty of the fiction-writer. But the work com- 
mends itself to the English reader by more specific merits. It 
is at once a key to particular phases of American life and charac 
ter, and a picture of a class of American educational institutions, 
such as it would be impossible for anj^ writer to place before us 
except through the medium of fiction. The hero, Roderick 
Hume, whose name is the name of the book, is a Union School 
teacher, and in making his acquaintance, and In keeping his 
company while he is securing a position for himself in his pro- 
fession, we become quite intimately familiar with the particular 
section of American society with which such a life brings a 
young American in contact, and when we lay down the book, 
we feel that we know a good deal more about the men and 
women and young people in the United States than ever we knew 
before. 

Roderick Hume, therefore, should be well read in England, 
and especially by those whose interest is in the work of educa- 
tion . — School Board Chronicle, London. 

It is a book that any one, of any purpose, in any part of the 
world, would read. Teachers should have it, and there are 
school officers whom it would wake up at a lively rate. It is a 
book of wit, wisdom, humor, and real life . — Literary Notes. 

“ Roderick Hume ” belongs in the same category with Warren’s 
“Ten Thousand a Year”, and Reade’s “ Very Hard Cash”, as a 
book wherein a department of the public economy is shown up 
with all its faults, and in a form that must attract even the idle 
reader. As a treatise, it would be shunned by all but patient 
investigators ; as !a story it elbows its way into quite another 


RODERICK HUME 


7 


circle. It is not only a pleasant little tale, full of incident and 
moving in a local and familiar atmosphere, but it is in one sense 
a text-book for teachers and persons who contemplate entering 
the profession. — Syracuse Evening Herald. 

A general impression prevails that there is little room for 
romance in that wide, cheerless field in which the school teacher 
labors, but this is far from being true as will duly appear when 
the field has been worked as thoroughly by delvers in the 
domains of light literature, as many others less attractive have 
been, and towards which result this work is a promising step. — 
nttshurgh Reporter. 

This gives an open view of much that is not often told in pub- 
lic. The book goes the rounds of seeking a position as teacher, 
of examining various calls, of the various kinds of ability 
required, and of the rough and smooth experience of the school- 
room. The story (or history, for such it is) is well told. The 
hits are good ; the blunders are marked ; the order of events 
natural. The mistake of the work is in being too matter-of fact. 
It stirs up nests that are still occupied hy hornets. — Christian Ad- 
vocate. 

The editor of the School Bulletin has herein exhibited other 
qualities than those generally attributed to editors, viz., sageness 
and superficiality in turn. He has written with a strong hand 
and in a style vivacious and unique. The dilettante story- reader 
will cry out that the hero is not what he should be always, but 
the author replies that school teachers and men in general are 
not what they should be, otherwise this and many another story 
would have remained untold. “ Roderick Hume” has a definite 
purpose and a most laudable one, to rebuke many abominable 
practices, especially in this State, in the management of the public 
schools. Mr. Bardeen is not alone in the opinion that the school 
system should be removed entirely from the arena of local poli- 
tics, but we doubt that any one else has shown up so vividly the 
evils of the' present state of things. He has given us almost a 
Philippic in the form of a tale, and his shafts have, we are 
informed, made Philip wince and menace. The inhumanity, 
the unfairness, the wiles of unprincipled persons, who are placed 


TESTIMONIALS OF 


in charge of schools or departments are depicted without fear of 
offending. Though some features may seem exaggerated , we ven- 
ture the opinion, not without considerable personal knowledge 
of facts, that in the schools of even this enlightened State might 
be found abundant substance to cast the shadow which is spread 
out upon the pages of this volume. America happily needs no 
“Nicholas Nickleby ”, but there is still a demand for “ Roderick 
Hume ”. — Northern Christian Advocate. 

It will prove interesting not alone to school teachers, but to 
everbody else. Mr. Bardeen proves himself so apt at story tell- 
ing, it would prove profitable, we think, were he able to find 
time to tell more of them. — Rochester Express. 

The work strikes us as decidedly fresh, original and breezy. 
Some of its descriptions, as that of the village of Chimborazo, 
including a stranger’s probable judgment of the inside of a Chim- 
borazo church from the outside thereof, are strikingly good. We 
have no hesitation in commending it to whoever desires a volume 
which positively nobody has written heretofore. — Buffalo Ex- 
press. 

The particular charm of the story to readers who have had 
experience in the school-room lies in the life-like delineations of 
the struggles, disappointments, and successes of school-room 
life. While the book contains sufficient plot and incident to 
make it really interesting to the average novel reader, it possesses 
sufficient professional information to make it very useful to the 
teacher. — Western Advertiser, London. 

There are a great many excellent points and morals in the 
work and every teacher should read it. The story has enough 
of the romance to make it attractive and relieve it of its monotony, 
but at the same time accomplishes the object for which it was 
printed. We will leave the work at this point and ask the 
members of boards of education, teachers, and scholars to procure 
the book and read and reflect. — Watertown Dispatch. 

This is an interesting story of the life of a teacher. It is replete 
with incident, and contains just enough of humor to make it 
attractive. The character of the hero, Roderick Hume, is capi- 


RODERICK HUME 


9 ' 


tally drawn. lie is represented as an earnest, persevering man, 
exposed to many temptations and, at times, surrounded with 
difficulties. He puts aside his temptations and overcomes hi& 
difficulties, and in the end is a better man. A spritely love story, 
connected with the plot, lends to it an additional charm. The 
book contains many useful practical hints, and is one which 
every teacher would do well to read . — Roine Sentinel. 

After a careful perusal, we unhesitatingly pronounce it one of 
the best pen pictures that it has been our privilege to contem- 
plate. Clear, cogent and concise, it delineates the uses and 
abuses of our school system. It is seldom that so much actual 
knowledge is presented to the public in so attractive a form. 
Every teacher who wishes to improve his position by carefully 
studying the defects of others ; every observer of the workings 
of system ; every parent interested in the education of his child- 
ren, will not fail to read and study this valuable book . — Jordan 
Intelligencer. 

A perusal of this volume will satisfy the reader of two things,, 
first, of the truth of the general proposition that there is no 
position in human affairs but contains something of interest to 
us all, provided only there be some one who can take in the full 
force of the situation and describe it in terms that shall be attrac- 
tive and natural : and second, that the life and career of a school 
teacher possesses an interest which cannot but arouse our sym- 
pathy and command our keen attention, when that life and 
career are set in order before us. Not being especially familiar 
with school literature, it is our own fault that this is the first 
production we have ever seen from the pen of Mr. Bardeen. We 
hope, however it is not the last that is to appear. The story of 
Roderick Hume, the bright, intelligent, brave and upright 
teacher, who, at the same time is not free from some of the 
foibles which beset every man and woman, is a study worthy of 
contemplation and, in most respects, of emulation. The style 
of the author is easy and graceful, and he has thrown a halo of 
romance about the iterations of a teacher’s life, for which na 
teacher can fail to thank Mm.— Troy Whig. 

Hyde, a boy thirteen years old, attended one of the public 


10 


TESTIMONIALS OF 


schools in Owego. His teacher did not like him and called him 
an idiot. He took the epithet to heart and refused to attend 
school any longer. His parents, ignorant of this special reason 
for his disinclination, insisted that he should go. He still refused 
and his father punished him for playing truant. Immediately 
afterward, the boy went to the barn, and cut his throat. Failing 
to sever the artery, he put a rope over rafter, fitted a noose, 
and hung himself. When his playmates called for him on their 
way to school, they found him dead. The coroner’s jury rendered 
this verdict : “Furthermore, we find from the evidence that he 
was of a very sensitive nature, and that the aversion to his 
teacher and the certainty of being compelled to attend school, 
led him to prefer death as above described” Yet almost everybody 
complains that chapter IX of “ Roderick Hume” is too severe. 
— Westfield Reporter. 

We have read this book. We like it. It is full of common 
sense and is designed to portray some of the inner workings of 
the modern union school. The facts and information are inter- 
woven with a pleasantly and entertainingly written story. It is 
short, spicy, pithy. The leading character is a teacher. He is 
a young man who has fought his way up in the world from boy- 
hood, and fought his way to a tolerable education. He is self- 
reliant, self-confident, generous, high principled. He has faults, 
too. The other characters are well pictured. One gets a truth- 
ful insight into the trials against which the teacher of the present 
has to contend. For the writer claims that the incidents and 
characters depicted are real, and only those which have come 
under his own observation. He has only used his fancy to the 
extent of weaving a conglomeration of disconnected facts into 
one symmetrical whole. In this he has admirably succeeded. 
In the life-likeness of the story lies its charm. — Utica Republican, 

There are many special phases of Ameiican life which have 
never yet been touched by the pen of the story-teller, and which 
contain quite as many occasions and possibilities as others that 
have been worked over and over again. Among these is the 
theme with which Mr. Bardeen’s story deals. The career of a 
teacher, its trials, its disappointments, its vexations, its pleasures 


RODERICK HUME 


II 


and its successes, furnishes material in great abundance for the 
use of the novelist. But it is not every writer who can make 
use of this material. The life is a peculiar one, from the time 
when the teacher makes his first application for a position, 
through all his succeeding experiences ; and it is only one who is 
thoroughly familiar with all these details, who has been behind 
the scenes and knows all the ropes and wires and pulleys, that 
can hope successfully to weave a narrative which shall be true 
to life, without exaggeration, and without dogmatism. Mr. 
Bardeen has this special qualification for the work. Every 
phase of the teacher’s career, every turn of policy and require- 
ment of tact, is like an open book to him. He has not to go 
a-field in search of incident and situation. His long knowledge 
of the profession, his extensive connection with it throughout 
the State, have brought to his hands a body of facts, occurrences, 
peculiarities, and suggestions which, while more than sufficient 
to answer all his needs, is at the same time full of dramatic and 
striking situations. The story was originally published as a 
serial in The School Bulletin, and we imagine that as it pro- 
gressed it quite outgrew the author’s first intentions. It did not 
however lose its unity. Its incidents are all grouped around the 
central figure, that of a young man intent upon doing his duty 
with courage and manliness. But he is not left to fight out the 
situation alone. The character of Mary Lowe, the unassuming, 
noble minded, and refined assistant, is a constant surprise to the 
reader, and it is no wonder that her influence over Roderick 
grows and strengthens through the year. * * * As a whole 
it is admirable, full of wise and pithy sayings, and in parts 
brimming over with good-nature satire. It is long since we 
have seen anything so happy and well-put as the chapter on 
school-book publishing houses and their agents. We know that 
the latter, while recognizing their portraits, will laugh heartily 
over the irresistable fun of the descriptions. Teachers throughout 
the country will find in the book much food for reflection, and 
every one of them will be interested in the different steps by 
which Roderick made himself master of the situation. — Utica 
Herald. 


THE SCHOOL BULLETIH PUBLTCATIOXS. 


The School Bulletin 

AND NEW YORK STATE EDUCATIONAL JOURNAL, 

Estahli87iedlQl‘^. 9x14. %1. 00 a year. 

The School Bulletin is one of the five oldest educational journals in 
America, and the only one of them that has been under the same ownership 
and man'agement from the beginning. It was the only American School jour-^ 
nal which received the gold medal at the Paris Exposition of 1889, and it 
received the highest award offered at the Chicago Exposition of 1893, the di- 
ploma pronouncing it “of the greatest interest and historical value to 
educators of all grades ”. It is not filled with “methods” and spoon-food 
for young teachei’s who want their ideas ready-made, but appeals to super- 
tendents, principals, and all teachers who regard their work as a vocation, 
and who want to look upon it broadly and comprehensively. 

In the feature of educational news it has never had a rival. Its chroni- 
cles of what has happened in New York schools since its establishment are 
unmatched in educational literature, and it has taken note of whatever has 
happened in other States that involved general principles. 

Its Current Topics give a chronicle of what occured during the preced- 
ing month with forcible terseness, and in a perspective that bring the im- 
portant events clearly to the front, adding maps wherever necessary. For 
the instruction of classes in this branch, now commonly recognized as essen- 
tial, and for preparation of teachers’ examinations, the Current Topics as 
here presented have been declared to be the best anywhere to be found. In 
New York they are of especial value in preparation for the Uniform Exam- 
inations, as the Bulletin is issued every month of the year (not for ten months 
only), at such a date that it will reach New York subscribers just before the 
Unifoi-m Examination of the month, and thus present the news fresh and up- 
to date. 

It publishes each month all the Uniform Examination questions and an- 
swers of the preceding month, with all the illustrations in drawing and 
other subjects. It publishes all the questions given at the examinations for 
State Certificates ; all the circulars and legal deci.-sions issued by the De- 
partment of Public Instruction ; and has indeed two Official Departments 
edited and conducted by members of the Department of Public Instruction 
and of the Eegents, respectively. 

It is therefore primarily an educational journal for New York teachers,, 
and is meant to be a journal no New York teacher can afford to be without.. 
But teachers in other States will find it of great service, both for the intrin- 
sic value of its contents, and for the vivid picture it gives of educational 
progress in the Empire State. 

Oe W. BARDEEN, Piiblislier, Syracuse, N. Y. 


THE SCHOOL BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS. 

History of Modern Education. 

The History of Modem Education. An account of Educational Opinion 

and Practice from the Revival of Learn- 
ing to the Present Decade. By Samuel 
G. Williams, Ph.D., Professor of the 
Science and Art of Teaching in Cornell 
University. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 39.5. 15 

Portraits. $1.50. 

This is altogether the fullest and most 
complete history of modern education 
now available, and should be examined 
at once by all who have classes in that 
subject. It is also the only adequate 
preparation for examinations, and a 
necessary part of every teachers’ work- 
ing library. 

The titles of the chapters will give some idea of its comprehensiveness. 

I. Preliminaries of modern education. II. The Renaissance, and some 
interesting phases of education in the 16th century. III. Educational 
opinions of the 16th century. IV. Distinguished teachers of the 16th century, 
Melanchthon, Sturm, Trotzendorf, Neander, Ascham, Mulcaster, the Jesuits. 
V. Some characteristics of education in the 17th century. ‘VI. Principles 
of the educational reformers. VII. The 17th century reformers. ^TII. 
Female education and Fenlon. IX. The Oratory of Jesus. Beginnings of 
American education. X. Characteristics of education in the 18th century. 
XI. Important educational treatises of the 18th century. Rollin, Rousseau, 
Jvant. XII. Basedow and the Philanthropinic experiment. XIII. Pestaloz- 
zi and his work. XIV. General review of education in the 18th century. 
XV. Educational characteristics of the 16th century. Herbert Spencer, 
Frcebel, manual training, disciplinary value of studies. 

Prof. Nicholas Murray Butler says in the Educational lievieic : “ Prof. 
Williams’s book is the latest, and for the American reader the best. * * * 
It need hardly be said that it ought to displace all of the cheap compends 
In use.”— Prof. Hugh 0. Bird, of the State Normal College of Va., writes: 
” It is just the book I have been looking for. I have a class of 22 studying 
it and I find it very satisfactory,” — Principal Bounds, of the N. II. Normal 
School, writes : “ The book is better adapted to our use than any other.” 

The Critic calls it, “ sensible in its views, and correct and clear in style.” 
The American Journal of Education says : “ It is not too much to say that 
lor all ordinary purposes Prof. William’s book is in itself a much more val- 
uable pedagogical library than could be formed with it omitted.” Science 
says : “ Throughout the book the author shows good sense in his judgment 
of men and methods ; and, what is no small merit in the present age, he is 
entirely free from hobbies.” 

C. W, BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y. 



THE SCHOOL BULLETIN j. EBLICATIONS. 


The Orhis Pictus of Comenius. 

This beautiful volume, (Cloth, 

8vo, lar^e paper, top-edge gilt, 
others uncut, pp. 197, $3.00) is a 
reprint of the English edition of 
1727, but xvlth reproduction of the 
151 copper -cut illustrations of the 
original edition of 1658. A copy 
of the rare original commands 
a hundred dollars, and this re- 
print must be considered the 
most important contribution to 
pedagogical literature yet madp. 

It was not only the first book 
of object lessons, but the first 
text-book in general use, and in- 
deed, as the Encyclopaedia Bri- 
tannica states, “the first chil- 
dren’s picture-book.” 

EXTRACTS PROM CRITICISMS. 

The book is a beautiful piece of work, and in every way superior ta 
most of the fac'similes we have so far been presented with. — H. Y. Worlds 

C. W. Bardeen, of Syracuse, has placed lovers of quaint old books un- 
der obligation to him. — N. Y. Sun. 

We welcome this resurrection of the Orbis Pictus Sensualum Pictus ^ 
which has lain too long in suspended amination. This master-piece of Com- 
enius, the prince of European educators in the 17th century, was the 
greatest boon ever conferred on the little ones in primary schools. — Nation. 

Comenius’s latest editor and publisher has therefore given us both a 
curiosity and a wholesome bit of ancient instruction in his handsome re- 
print of this pioneer work.— CW^ic. 

The old wood illustrations are reproduced with absolute fidelity by a 
photographic process, and as the text follows closely letter by letter the ol^ 
text, the book is substantially a copy of the rare original.— World. 

It would be impossible to find an educational work which would exer- 
cise a stronger fascination upon the minds of the young.— Awz. Book-maker. 

The reproduction gives an excellent idea of the work and makes a most 
interesting volume for reference, especially as an illustration of the customs, 
manners, beliefs, and arts of the 17th CQntnvY— Independent. 

Every educational library must have a copy of the book, if it wishes tO’ 
lay any claim whatever to completeness, and as the edition is limited, orders 
should be sent early. We say right here that twenty-five dollars will not 
take our copy unless we are sure we can replace it.— Educational Courant. 

• C. W. BARDEET^ Syracuse, N, Yi® 



THE SCHOOL BULLETIH PVBLICA TIOXS, 


Tlie Five Great English Books. 

1. Lectures, on Teaching, delivered in the University of Cambridge dur- 
ing the Lent term, 1880. By J. G. 
Fitch, late one of her Ma.iesty’s In- 
spectors of Schools. Cloth, 12mo, pp, 
303. $1.25, 

IMr. Quick said : “ All the essentials- 
of popularity are combined in Fitch’s- 
Lectures on Teaching, and this is now 
(and long may it continue !) one of our 
most read educational works.” We 
publish also at 15 cts, each Mr. Fitch’s 
“ The Art of Questioning ”, and ” The 
Art of Securing Attention ’’—two in- 
teresting monographs that have had 
wide circulation and influence. 

2. Education, Intellectual, Moral, and Physical. By Herbert Spencer, 
16mo, pp. 331. Cloth, $1.00 ; Manilla, 50 cts. 

This is incomparably the best edition of this great classic, of which Mr. 
Quick says, classing it with Ascham’s “ Scholemaster ” and Locke’s 
“ Thoughts ” : “ If a teacher does not know these, he is not likely to know 
or care anything about the literature of education ; ” and of which Com- 
payre says : ” There is scarcely a book in which a keen scent for details 
comes more agreeably to animate a fund of solid arguments. ” In this edi- 
tion there are a sketch and portrait of the author, 28 pages of Notes with 
the principal Criticisms, and a complete Topical Analysis for Reviews. 

3. Lectures on the Science and Art of Teaching. By Joseph Payne, 
Cloth, 16mo, pp. 384. Price $1.25. 

These lectures are singularly fascinating, and full analyses and indexes 
in this edition make it easy to collate and compare all that the author has 
uttered upon any topic suggested. 

h. The Philosoph y of Education , or the Pi'ind.ples and Practice of Teachin g. 
By Thomas Tate. 16mo, pp. 440. Cloth, $1.50 ; Manilla, 50 cts. 

This gives the application of the Science to the Art of Teaching, and is 
without a rival in its clear presentation and abundant illustrations. The 
author is not content with giving directions. lie shows by specimens of 
class-work just what may be done and should be done. 

5. Introductory\Text-Book. to School Education, Method, and School Man- 
agement. By John Gill. Cloth, 16mo, pp. 276. Price $1.00. 

This supplements the work of all the rest by practical directions as to 
School Management. The teacher’s greatest difficulty, his surest discomfiture 
if he fails, is in the discipline and management of his school. That this 
manual has proved of inestimable help to English teachers is proved by the 
fact that the present edition is the 44th thousand printed. 

C. W. BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y* 



THE SCHOOL BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS. 


Papers on Educational Topics. 

I. Some Facts about our Public Schools. A plea for the Township Sys- 
tem. Address before the IST. Y. School Officers’ Association, 1878, by C. W. 
Bakdeen. 8vo, pp 32. 25 cts. 

The Present Status of the Township System. Address before the is . Y, 
School Officers’ Association, 1889, by C. W. Bardeen, 8vo, pp. 60. 40 cts. 

3. The Taxpayer and the Township System. Address before the N. J. 
State Teachers’ Association, 1891, by C. W. Bardeen. 8vo, pp. 15. 25 cts. 

4. The Teacher as he Should Be. Address before the N. Y. State Teach- 
ers’ Association, 1891, by C. W. Bardeen. 8vo, pp. 24. 25 cts. 

5. Teaching as a Business for Men. Address before the National Edu- 
Dational Association, 1885, by C. W. Bardeen. 8vo, pp. 20. 25 cts. 

6. The Teacher's Commercial Value. Address before the N. Y. State 
Teachers’ Association, 1885, by C. W. Bardeen. 8vo, pp. 20. 25 cts. 

Intelligence., Chicago, says of the two last : “ If the reader wants two 
spicy and sensible essays by the keenest educational \^Titer of the day, he 
will find in the above what he wants.” 

7. National Education in Italy., Germany^ England, and Wales. By Brof. 
C. W. Bennett. 8vo, pp. 28. 15 cts. 

8. ^ Modem Languages in Education. By Prof. Geo. F. Comfc^rt. IGmo, 
pp. 40. 25 cts. Cloth, 50 cts. 

9. Politics and Schools. By Sidney G. Cooke. 8vo, pp. 23. 25 cts. 

10. Limits of Oral Teaching . By John \V. Dickinson, 16mo, pp. 24. 15 cts. 

II. High Schools. By B. G. Northrop. Paper, 8vo, pp. 26. 25 cts. 

12. Latin in High Schools. By H. P. Emerson. 8vo, pp. 9. 25 cts. 

13. Natural Science in the Public Schools. By "SYm. T. Harris. 16mo, 
pp. 40. 15 cts. 

14. Powers and Duties of School Officers. By A. P. Marble. 16mo, pp. 
27. 15 cts. 

15. Sex in Mind and Education. By Prof. H. Maudsley. 16mo, pp. 42. 
15 cts. 

10. The New Education. By Prof. J. M. D. Meikle.tohn. 16ino, pp. 35. 
15 cts. 

11. Aspects of Industrial Education. By II. H. Straight. 8vo, pp. 12. 
15 cts. 

18. Education as a Department of Government. By Warner Miller. 
Svo, pp. 12. 15 cts. 

19. University Degrees. What they Mean, what they Indicate, and IIow 
to Use them. By Flavel S. Thomas. IGmo, pp, 40. 15 cts. 

C. W, BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y. 


SCHOOL BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS. 

Books for Young Teachers. 

1, T?ie Theory and Pi'ootice of Teaching, By David P. Page. 16ino, pp 

448, with Biography, Notes, Portraits 
of Page, Mann, Colburn, Emerson, 
Potter, Wadsworth, and Ohnsted, and 
Topical Index for Review. Price ip 
Manilla, 50 cts. ; in Cloth, $1.00. 

No other American book on teach- 
ing has so much claim as this to be 
considered a classic. For nearly fifty 
years it has been regarded almost 
universally as the one book the young 
teacher would most profit by. A hun- 
dred thousand teachers have drawn 
help and inspiration from its pages. 

It seems only just to the author of 
A work so successful that his book should be printed just as he wrote it. 
The day is past when commentators re-write Shakspere. They may anno- 
tate and explain and conjecture, but they take the text as they find it, 
and print their observations in another type. This book has been less for- 
tunate In different editions since Mr. Page’s death chapters have been 
added, details have been changed, passages have been entirely rewritten. 

This volume goes back to the book that Mr. Page published, and follows 
word for word the text of the only edition he ever authorized. Where the 
times have changed and we in them, references to present conditions are 
given in the Notes that follow, which are also in some part explanatory and 
historical. 

In short this is so much the best edition issued, that even those who al- 
ready have another edition can afford to throw that aside and use this alone. 

2. Hand-Book for Young Teachers. By H. B. Buckham, late principal of 
the State Normal School at Buffalo. Cloth, ICrao, pp. 152. Price 75 cents. 

It anticipates all the difficulties likely to be encountered, and gives the 
beginner the counsel of an older friend. 

5. The School Room Guide., embodying the instruction given by the 
author at Teachers’ Institutes in New York and other States, and especially 
intended to assist Public School Teachers in the Practical Work of the 
School-Room. By E. V. DeGraff. Thirteenth edition, with many additions 
and corrections. 16mo, cloth, pp. 398. Price $1.50. 

As distinguished from others of the modern standards, this is a book of 
Methods instead of theories. It tells the teacher just what to do and how to 
do it ; and it has proved more practically helpful in the details of the 
school-room than any other book ever issued. 

cfw. BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N.Y. 



THE SCHOOL DVLLETIN PUBLICATIONS. 


The standard Teachers’ Library. 


A Monthly Issue of Pedagoprical Books which (1) Every Teacher OUGHT to 
liave because of their VALUE ; (2) Every Teacher CAN have because of 
their PRICE, 

Superintendents the country over have written to us : “ Our teachers 
need your books, and are making heroic efforts to buy them, but really you 
do not realize how much a dollar means to a country teacher. If you 
could only give us these books equally well printed but in cheaper binding.” 
In response to this tlemand, we have begun this Monthly Series, to include 
our very best books, of which the regular price in cloth is from $1.00 to $2.00 
a volume. For this series the uniform price will be FIFTY CENTS, POST- 
PAIU. a’hey are just as well printed, on just as good paper, and just as 
strongly sewn, with cloth-strengthened backs, as our regular cloth editions. 
"J'lie difference is that they are bound in manilla, and so can be sent l.y 
mail at pound-rates, like a newspaper. 

Only thoroughly approved works will appear in the series, and many » f 
t he books will haA*e features of their owm, including Notes, Illustrations,T< ] i- 
cul Indexes, Bibliographies, etc., not to be found in editions issued by other 
publishers. The earliest books are as follow-s : 

1 Nov , 1893. Lanrie's Life and IForil’^ of Comenius. Pp. 272, with 
Bildiography. 5 Portraits, and 15 Photographic Reproductions of pages 
from his Original Works. 

Dec , 1893. Carlisle's Memoirs of Ascham a?id Arnold. Pp. 2C8, with 
l>ib]ii)graphy of Thomas Arnold, 

3. Jan , 1894. Page's Theory and Pt'actice of Teaching. Pp. 448, with Biog- 
raphy , Notes ; Portraits of Page, Mann, Colburn, Emerson, Potter, Wads- 
worth, and Olmsted ; and Topical Index for Reviewg 

h Feb , 1894. PeGuiwp's Pestedozzl, his Aim and IFwA'. Pp. 3.39, with 
Portrait, Bibliography, and Index. 

5 ]\! arch, 1894 Ilerhert Spencer's Education. Pp. 331, with Portrait, the 
most imi)ortant Criticisms that have appeared, and a minute Topical Imh-x. 
for Review. 

C>. Apiil, 1894. Bardeen's Poderick Hume: the story of a New York Teacher. 

7 ]\lay. 1894. Be Graff's School Poom Guide. Pp. 39G. 111th edition, r(‘- 
vised amt from entirely new^ plates. 

3 June, 1894 Tate's Philosophy of Education. Pp. 400, 

V July, 1894 T he Teacher's Mentor. Pp, 274, Including in one volume 
Buckham' s First Steps in Teaching, Huntington's Unconscious Tuition, Fitch's 
Art of Questioning, and Fitch's Art of Securing Attention. 

]0. Aug., 1894 The Teewlier's Critic. Pp. 2.32. Including in one volume 
Hughes's Mist ales in Teaching, and How to Secure and Petain Attention. 

11. Sept., 1894. The 'P^acher's Guide to Correct Speech. Pp, 293. Includ- 
ing in one volume Hoose's Studies in Articulation, and Bardeen's Verbal 
Pitfalls. 


C, W. KAKDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y. 


Entered In the Post office at Syracuse, N. Y., as mall matter of 
the second class. rN'-A--. 






IP ’ 








) \ 


'••V.. v! 


r: 

A • 


.<i.'ir 


. j 


f . »"• 
■-. '' 


• . \ 


,i.' '•»•( 

■■'v •■. 

« * 



. * ' ’. » •' ■ ' \ ’ ’j^ •iC '■ ^- 


/• V ■>'• •'■ 

•■ ‘v. ^ 

. :wr - ■ 



'/ . 
-4 





>-V'V 

« .1 


' v'V.'v •■' •■ 

V«-' .-wit* 


t ,- * 
i • 


■ • • "■ 4 . ■' ' ei 

■ m- 


y.NV 


• '• ’■ .. ‘-Vi ‘ 

^ ‘j- -; M*«. ' ' •» f-# 

• t » ; ^ * , • • j ^ ii . ^ ff* 






'V, 


• •’ V •><*■“ 


<■«**. , , 
-» ' > • ; •# / 




>. 




-» • ‘•z 

■I »-\rr .r<‘- 




1 **■'’> '/ ^ * 

,* ' Vi * 




i' ' ■ ■ » 

»; : ■ 


vpS-^iv;. 

' • •>' • J'' • 

• . ‘ . V' 


.•§"v*fcy7'; .r*v.^ ’ttri 

.-t- 


V * 

1?* 


> • 


« > 


; J 



■ .' . M' '•" ••■. 

'■,. dj 3 ? «• 



•t^ 




■- 


'•« 

tt I ’ 


■ / 


> ( 





• w 


\V^, s 


'•■1? 


s- 

( 


1 


.f , 


‘ w - • 


4 

5 

• ' ♦ 


/.f/f .. 


t 

• . 


* •* k-T-V V ^ V '** . » • 




I. 






I •* 


fT^^‘‘ *1 • ■• ■ •" 

^ ^ 

/ , ♦i i ^• 

■ 


f 

I 


' i 


. f 


», I • * - 

•1 y. 


t . 








* I 


•v 

\ 


> ‘Vj 






Vi 


-*K, 

I A 


• I* ^ • V • •• • « ‘ V Un- 

• L?. V. •; I \ 


,,T 


• f 


1» V 

• I 


• « 


‘ k • ••,..* 

i"- .’ - 

^ I-/ - 


’*• I • 


1 

• • I ► 


tv 


» ^ 




_ J..X 4 

4 . 




1 ^ V. 

« 


I 

• » 


.. ■■■ ' ■•■■■: '■* 
• •■/-.• . . -ATr.y -• 

I • 


'A. .. 


v7’. 


• t 


•'7r-- 


* ><• 


./'V 

1 .:u' 


7i 


* . • 
■■■jff 






if ■• ■ - 4 ..U-.^ 

■. ’-'V / 0 - ^'V<Vv- 

/ r T,: • - 

' • ‘ 4 ^ * 



; I ;. 


' V ‘ 

‘ ^rl 

f 


A 




41 1 


• » ^ 


Av- 

W ’.I I 1, .. : ■■■! 

. r*^ .• i t 


44 ' 1 - • • » 

..■ .’ .* \i ’• »- 

' • ’. ‘a w 



'• • . . ► 'i 'kiM 


k • 
' *•• 


Vi'.» 






k . 


* ♦ 

» <* 


Ski ^ 

<1 


\ 


k • 

I » 


I 






« 


I 














i a 



i 










